


Reconnect

by a_phoeniceus



Series: HQ Queer Girl Collective [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Feels, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderbending, Hook-Up, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian Sugawara, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Other, POV Female Character, Queer Daichi, Queer Friendly, Queer Themes, Queer Youth, Romantic Fluff, Trans Character, daisuga - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 13:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_phoeniceus/pseuds/a_phoeniceus
Summary: When I came out for the first time, I also confessed to my then best-friend, Daichi Sawamura. She not only rejected my confession, but my sexuality, too, leaving me devastated. That was three years ago, at our high school graduation.Since then, I've been doing fine. Like most queer ladies, I have some experience (read: baggage) with accidentally falling in love with straight girls, but those days were behind me.At least, they were, until Daichi Sawamura transferred to my university and tried to rekindle our broken friendship.(This is part two of my genderswap series. You can read this as a standalone, but it does spoil stuff from "Closer")





	1. Unexpected and Inconvenient Reunions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, and trying something new with this fic!
> 
> I also decided to post this all in one go, so it took me a little longer to write than usual.

_ Strawberry, or green tea? _ I contemplated two packages of cookies, unable to pinpoint what I actually wanted. It was pretty late, and I had the store to myself. The shop clerk at the counter looked too bored and too exhausted to judge me for my late night snacking, so I was taking my time. To be honest, I wasn’t really hungry, I mostly needed a break from staying at my parent’s house.

I sighed, then tentatively reached for the green tea flavored ones. My hand hovered above the shelf, as if it knew that the strawberry ones would be far more satisfying. Not being one to argue, I grabbed the largest package of strawberry cookies available. I was turning away from the shelf when the sound of my name, said in a familiar voice, propelled me away from cookie flavors and into a situation in which I  _ did not _ want to participate.

I put on the most convincing smile I could, and turned around the rest of the way to face Daichi Sawamura, my First Love, First Rejection, and the Bantamweight Champion of Crushes on Straight Girls (a contest I always lose). “Wow, Sawamura, hi.” I used her last name on purpose. She had called me Koushi, which was too nostalgic and familiar for the things I felt for her now.

She seemed to notice the boundary I laid down, because her smile wavered, just a little. A faint twist of guilt flickered in the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it. I decided to blame the uncomfortable overhead fluorescents instead of letting that waver imprint in my memory. 

“How are you? You must be home for break, right?”

I blinked at her, but kept my smile steady, “Yeah! I’m fine,” I held up the package I had chosen, “About to be better.” I cleared my throat, “You?”

Daichi shifted her hands in her pockets, shoving them a little deeper as she lifted her shoulders. The conversation was awkward,  _ so _ awkward. Neither of us knew what we were doing. It was practically the middle of the night, the chances of us running into each other here had been slim even in high school, and we hadn’t spoken since the fall after we graduated. Since I confessed.

Since she rejected me.

“Oh, I’m okay,” she didn’t sound okay, but I didn’t mention it. I had worked hard to push those habits as far away as possible, “Are you still attending Niigata?”

I frowned, but answered, “Yes.”

She seemed relieved, and pushed her hair out of her face. It was shorter than I had ever seen it. It barely reached her chin, and she kept it swept back away from her face. At the part, a few strands stuck straight up, because she had grown out her bangs. It suited her. “I’m transferring there next semester, after the holidays.”

For a moment, I thought I was going to fall into the earth to be swallowed hole. I stared at her, “Y-you’re transferring? Aren’t you attending Miyagi University?” The quiet convenience store suddenly felt too small for me.

“Yeah.” Her dark eyes slid away from mine and she ducked her chin into her scarf. She eyed the packages I had been looking at when she entered and said, “My research advisor is transferring, and I could either find a new project and new advisor, or transfer with her.”

“Oh.” I glanced around the shop, waiting for her to tell me she was joking.  _ If Jiri were here, she could tell Daichi to find a new project and maybe a new planet. _

Discomfort stretched between us, and she shifted her weight on her feet. “Well, maybe I can call you, when the semester starts? We can get together,” she smiled tentatively, “You could show me around.”

“Sure.” I said, and then I lied, “That sounds great.” I watched her face carefully, trying to read her. I’m so good at reading people sometimes I feel like I can read minds. At least, that’s how it felt with her before, but now it was more difficult. The years separating us had shrouded her from me.

“Um,” she shifted uncomfortably again, this time under the weight of my gaze, and for a moment I wondered what was bothering her. When we knew each other, she was always so self-possessed and confident. Now she seemed really unsteady. She glanced at the shelves again and grabbed a snack. I saw a flash of pale green on a package that matched my own as she said, “I was just coming in for a minute. It was nice to see you.”

“Yeah, nice to see you too,” I replied, wondering if she had come in because she had seen me through the window. I glanced over the shelves to the storefront,  _ She definitely could have seen me, I guess. _

“Bye, Suga.” By calling me by that old nickname, she had retreated away from the boundary she had crossed when she called me Koushi. There was a curl of sorrow in her voice, which made its way right through my chest and to my heart. I dropped my eyes to the floor and watched her feet walk away. She was wearing a pair of old leather boots, the tops were wet, as if she had been walking through the snow.

_ Sugawara would have been better _ , I thought, aching even though I smiled to her when I said goodbye. I drifted down the aisle, keeping her in my peripheral vision. She paid, then vanished into the cold night. Once she was past the windows of the convenience store, I went to the counter and paid. When I left the store, I went the direction opposite to where she had gone. I didn’t see her on the street, and began to walk home. 

I only ate two cookies on my walk back to my parent’s house. I was too unsettled by running into her. Our senior year, after we went to nationals, I was  _ so sure _ that she had feelings for me too. We had spent every waking moment together, growing alongside each other. Off the court, we spent more time together than apart. I sighed, remembering the sleepovers at her house, where we would share her bed because it was big enough and because the futon was lumpy.

And yet.

I stuffed the package of cookies into my pocket and wandered into the park on the end of my street. The night was quiet, as if it were about to snow, so my footsteps crunching through what was left from the last snowfall were the only source of noise. I loved the hush that fell in the winter, and it might be one of my favorite times of year _ —  _ especially those moments just before it snowed. I zipped my coat collar higher, stuffing my scarf into place in the process. My legs and ears were cold, but for the most part I was comfortable. I settled down onto a swing, just to think.

Being home was great, but there’s something difficult about coming home after being away at school for a couple of years. My mom and I usually get along fine, but she lapses into old parenting habits when I come back, and I always push against her boundaries for independence. My grandparents, her parents, understand a little better but I always begin to feel stifled about midway through winter break. This time, the suffocation had set in a little bit later because I had been spending a lot of the break with Kageyama and Hinata. After avoiding them and everyone from Karasuno for two years, it was kind of a relief to be with them. Their high school pining had almost been entertaining, but watching them settle into the relationship now was a riot.

The train ride over had been especially funny, and I was looking forward to meeting up with them for the ride back, too. I decided I wouldn’t tell them about running into Daichi. I curled my hands into my coat pockets and lifted my chin to the air, pushing myself back in the swing. The night was cold enough to see my breath. I watched each puff dissipate into the dark, and thought of her and the aching feeling she had left in her wake. I lifted my feet and let myself swing forward. Instead of kicking out, I let the momentum slip away until I came to a stop.

My thoughts returned to Daichi. At the time, I was certain that she had feelings for me, and I had waited until graduation to confess. We had already decided on going to separate schools, but I figured that was the best reason to come clean. Foolishly, I had decided that long distance would be a great idea, since we were such close friends. Late night phone calls, video chatting, trips to see each other on the weekends, I had it all planned out, ready for when she returned my feelings.

But she had laughed when I confessed.

Not a surprised laugh, not a nervous laugh, but an honest-to-god  _ You don’t really think that’s possible, _ kind of laugh. It had stunned me into silence.  _ What did she say, then? _ I closed my eyes in thought, surprised that I had to try to remember. At the time, I thought those words had burned themselves into my brain for all of eternity.

After rehearsing it in my head for weeks, I had said,  _ Daichi, I’m gay. I’ve known for a long time. I’m nervous to tell you this, but I want you to know that I have feelings for you.  _ The words had come out in a rush, spilling over each other so quickly I thought I was going to have to repeat them.

_ Suga, you’re my best friend, but I think you might be confused. You’re not gay. _

It was like a slap in the face, and reliving that memory after seeing her in person made it sting anew. “God, that fucking hurt,” I told the park, studying the structures as a wave of old shame rolled through me. Even a  _ You’re my best friend, and I just don’t swing that way _ would have been better. But she had taken my confession and made it worthless. 

She tried to keep in touch, after that. She invited me out with Asahi and some of our classmates a couple of times before we left for school, but I always said I was busy. She tried to text me when we had started classes, and to meet up when we were back from breaks, but I always declined. I wasn’t interested in being friends with someone who couldn’t accept me for who I am. The fact that I had feelings that she could never return was just insult on top of the injury. I had stuck by her side for so long during high school, supporting her, and loving her, all while hoping that her friendship would grow to match what I felt. At the time, I knew there was a chance it wouldn’t, but her response exceeded even my worst expectations. It was dumb, because at the time I hadn’t known any better.

Now, at least, I could defend myself against that kind of heartbreak.

I sat at the park, thinking about her, about the way her hair framed her face now and about how down she seemed, for a while. The last time I had seen her was when I bumped into her by chance during winter break freshman year. It had been two years since then, and seeing her now was dredging up all kinds of unpleasant memories. Memories I had worked so hard to bury.

The fact that she was transferring to my school kicked up an uncomfortable mix of things, too. On one hand, I felt miserable. The expectation of having to be polite while showing her around, and introducing her to my  _ very _ queer friends, set my teeth on edge. If I followed through, and saw her— which I would, because I am too nice and probably a masochist— I would have to make sure she had become accepting. I wouldn’t subject my goddess-sent, life-saving, sweet group of friends to any kind of prejudice. 

On top of that, the heartache was still there, after all this time, which I did not want to deconstruct.

Then, I would be lying if I said I didn’t think she was still beautiful.


	2. Steady Ground

I spent the rest of the holiday freaking out about running into Daichi.  Because during every spare moment, my traitorous brain decided to refresh old memories. 

Like the time we played our first high school game with Asahi.

Like when we were on a school trip and I made us late because I wanted to find the perfect souvenir for my grandparents. 

Like when the two of us would head to her house after school, because her parents were almost always away, and we would spend the entire night watching movies that were either too cheesy or too scary for us to watch otherwise.

It was relentless. And my stupid brain didn’t just stop there. No.

It reminded me of  _ everything else. _

And everything else included the way her eyebrows drew together when she was lecturing the team as captain. Or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking. Or the soft way she smiled when she was really happy.

My only reprieve was Kageyama and Hinata, who were currently sitting across from me on the train back to campus. They—or rather, Hinata— had insisted on hanging out during break, which I had obliged mostly because spending time with them was so easy. They had asked me to travel back with them, which I appreciated, and as I was watching them, I wondered how their relationship was coming along. They were eerily similar to what they were like before, and even over the break I didn’t notice much change between them.

Currently, Hinata was shoving her phone in Kageyama’s face, and Kageyama seemed as irritated as always. She was scowling at whatever Hinata was showing her, which I knew I would see soon enough.

When she didn’t get much of a reaction from Kageyama, Hinata jumped from her seat into the vacant one next to me. I leaned away and narrowly avoided being crashed into upon her landing. “Look at this spike, Suga!” it was a video of the current national team during an open practice. Hinata was directing my attention to the player up to serve, but I glanced at Kageyama instead. These days, people were far more interesting to me than sports.

She was leaning against the window, with her chin in her hand and her elbow on the armrest. Her hair was down, and several strands curled against her cheek. Her midnight eyes were steady on Hinata, and there was a faint blush warming her cheeks. If I didn’t know her, I would blame it on the cold, but because I do know her I attributed it to Hinata. She was so focused on the chattering, scrawny human beside me that she didn’t notice me watching her. Her perpetual scowl faded, and her head was tilted slightly to one side. A tender look of adoration replaced her earlier look of irritation, and the intimacy of that expression sent me reeling back to my own business.

_ Oof, _ I thought, smoothing my expression in case either of them decided to come back to the present,  _ Kageyama could be a total ladykiller.  _ Unable to help myself, I snuck another glance at her, all while listening to Hinata with one ear. She seemed so much more relaxed than she had last semester, and she was becoming more confident the more she settled into her relationship with Hinata. Earlier in the break, she told me about her continued visits to the counselor and the reduced workload she was going into upon returning to campus. She was doing a lot better than before, and seemed to be growing into herself and away from the sour, awkward teen she had been at Karasuno. She was still irritable and aloof, but it was somehow more genuine than it was before.

I smiled, feeling pleased. I returned my attention to Hinata, who had begun to ask me if I ever got the urge to play. I hummed in thought, then said, “I think if I had a little more time, I would miss it a lot more.” I grinned, then continued lightheartedly, “I thought about joining the intramural team, but the schedule always conflicts with my lab time.”

“Aw!” Hinata shook her head, then moved back to her spot next to Kageyama, practically jumping in the process. “Maybe we can practice together sometime, just for fun.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kageyama said, rolling her eyes, “We’d need another player for it to be worthwhile.”

Hinata glanced at me, then gave Kageyama a knowing look I wasn’t sure about. “Maybe Ruri-san would want to join us?”

I kept my face neutral, but watched them. The name was unfamiliar, but Hinata’s intentions were as clear as day. In order to nip her well-intended but all-together misguided attempt at matchmaking in the bud, I said, “This semester is going to be really busy for me! It’ll be hard for me to find time when all of you would be free.”

Crossing her arms, Hinata slouched down in her seat, collapsing against Kageyama. “That’s true. Last semester we only got together three times!”

Kageyama looked like she was going to short circuit from all of the contact she was receiving from Hinata, who was leaning up against her without a concern. I considered pointing it out and resisted the urge. Then Hinata snuggled closer while she chattered on about how fun playing together would be and I reconsidered my decision. “That’s true, but if you come to more of the Alliance meetings we’ll see more of each other. Besides,” I said, giving them a pointed look. “Isn’t volleyball  _ your _ time? Like, aren’t 90% of your dates just practicing volleyball together or going on runs?”

Hinata flushed scarlet all the way to her hairline, and Kageyama’s blush spread down her neck. She looked out the window, avoiding my eye contact while Hinata stuttered, “Ah, w-well—”

I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh, “I was mostly kidding, but is it really true?”

Kageyama’s lips pursed into a thin line, and Hinata again attempted to answer for them. “M-maybe not 90%, but definitely most of them.”

Her flustered response sent me into another fit of laughter, and Kageyama started to say, “W-we can go on other d-dates if—”

I waved her off as my laughter began to fade. “No, no, no,” I said quickly. “You should do what you want to do on your dates. If that’s what makes you happy, go for it. I’m only laughing because I can imagine it so well.”

Hinata touched Kageyama gently on the arm and they shared a look. I always thought it was interesting that the two of them, in all their uncommunicative glory, could talk without saying a word. Kageyama still seemed embarrassed and unsure, but Hinata’s expression was one of reassurance. 

I swallowed the last bubble of my laughter and said, “Really, I mean it.”

Kageyama looked over Hinata’s head and to the window, to where the countryside passed us by. “Okay,” she said flatly, relaxing against Hinata once she settled back into herself. 

I watched the way Kageyama shifted to let Hinata inch closer on the seat. They were connected from their knees to their hips, and then almost completely up to their shoulders. I briefly tried to remember if they had always touched so much, because it seemed far too natural to be new.

 

“ _ Haru,” _ I flung myself at my friend the second I saw them sitting on the couch in our livingroom. They were browsing on their phone, but looked up when I arrived. “Oh, I missed you so much.” They were the most levelheaded of all of my roommates, and never failed to give me the direct truth, regardless of convenience. They were also very tactile. 

With a weak sound of protest, they put their arms around me and hugged me back, shifting slightly so that my weight wouldn’t crush them. “ _ Koushi,”  _ they said, just as brightly. “Welcome home! How was your vacation? Did you get any thesis research done?”

I sighed, nestling myself deeper into the couch with them. “I did a little research. Home was fine, you know how it is.”

“How are our favorite baby gays?” they asked, putting their phone on the coffee table so it would be out of the way during our cuddling. Haru often used touch as a way to both express and seek comfort. Curling up on the couch together was common and something I needed at that moment. 

I thought of the look I saw on Kageyama’s face on the train and said,“Oh, you know, as adorable as ever.”

“Less clueless, or still kind of precious and unaware?” Haru sighed above me, “I feel like I haven’t seen them in ages.”

“The last Alliance meeting,” I reminded them. I had dragged Kageyama along with me, and pushed her to bring Hinata. They had both had a great time eating snacks and meeting the other club members. “They are  _ way _ less clueless. It’s sort of sickeningly sweet. They were cute before but every time I see them I get another cavity.”

“Oh, gross,” they said lightly, wrinkling their nose.

“What about you?” I asked. We had texted throughout the break, but nothing beat touching base in person.

They sighed and tucked my head under their chin, “I ran into my shitty ex, but otherwise, family and everything was great.”

I frowned because they hadn’t mentioned it earlier, “Oh, no. You did? Was it awful?”

Haru shrugged, and I felt their fingers working my hair from where it was wrapped up in my scarf. I had only taken my shoes and coat off at the door, but not my sweater, scarf, or extra thick socks. “In the moment, it was pretty awful, because I wasn’t expecting to see him. But I took extra time with my folks to recharge and was able to come back to myself pretty quickly.”

“That’s good,” I said, honestly relieved. “How did you run into him?”

Pushing my hair to one side to comb through, they said, “I was out walking the dogs at the park. He just happened to be hanging around.” Their fingers worked their way through my hair, gently untangling the knots it picked up from my travel day. I felt myself relax into the motion, grateful for the pure, platonic intimacy Haru was so consistent in providing.

“Do you think it was coincidence?”

“No. I think he was skulking around, waiting for me.”

I sighed, feeling sympathy for my friend. “What a creep.”

“Yeah, I was able to get out of their pretty quickly, though.”

“Good. He doesn’t deserve to be in your presence.”

“Yeah,” they said again, sounding unsure. 

I sat up from where I had piled on top of them and studied their face. “I’m serious. He was super misogynistic and manipulative. He tried to put you in a box, and you are so much more than what he wanted you to be.”

They glanced away, but I watched my words hit their target. “I know you’re right. But I don’t want to talk much more about this. Did anything else interesting happen while you were back home?”

I settled back on the other side of the couch, across from them. They put their feet in my lap, and I rested my hands on their shins, letting my fingers play across the fabric of their pajama pants. “Ah, sort of. I ran into Daichi one night, randomly.”

Their eyebrows quirked in interest, “Randomly?”

“Yeah, I needed a break from my parent’s house one night so I went to the convenience store for snacks. It was really late and she walked in.”

Haru studied my face, and I fought the urge to look away. Their ability to read minds was far more developed than my own. “Interesting.”

I hadn’t told her about this part, because I wasn’t sure what to say over messaging. “Yeah, based on where her folks live it would have been out of the way for her to end up at that store in the middle of the night.” I shook my head, “She said she’s transferring here.”

At this Haru’s brows almost left their forehead. “ _ Really _ ,” they said emphatically.

I nodded, “She said we should meet up when she gets here.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her yes,” I said, my voice flat, “But I don’t think I will.”

“Koushi,” Haru’s tone had taken a stern coloration.

“I know, I know.”

“You should see her.”

I shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t really want to.” Haru was well aware of my failed confession, and how awful Daichi had been about the whole thing. I wondered briefly why they were encouraging the reconnection.

“Why not?” they pressed.

“She didn’t just reject my confession, she rejected  _ me _ . As a friend and as a person. I don’t owe her anything.” I sighed, wanting to get out of the conversation. I finally said, “I just don’t want to.” But then, that is probably another of the lies I told myself then.


	3. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: drinking and hook ups depicted and implied

The semester, like most disasters, started with a party.

A few of the seniors running the Alliance club organized it before classes started, and Ryota and Aoki had insisted on dragging me out to attend. I’d tried to rope Kageyama and Hinata into coming, too, but Kageyama had staunchly refused. Hinata, to my mild surprise, hadn’t even tried to convince her.  _ It  _ is  _ the first night back together in their apartment _ , I thought flatly,  _ So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I would want to shack up with my live-in girlfriend instead of partying, too. _

I wasn’t feeling it either, and was nursing a drink in the corner, watching as Aoki and Ryota danced in the center of the room in a small group of people. Usually, I loved parties. They were a chance to unwind and have fun with the weekend-friends I had from clubs or classes. The Alliance parties were my favorite, because everyone was so comfortable and excited and empowered and  _ gay _ . The feeling was electric.

But for whatever reason, that night I was feeling on edge. The tequila and coke I had in my hands tasted bitter, even with the splash of lime, and did nothing to calm my nerves. I took a sip and listened to the music while watching the party. I was leaning against the wall and trying to project an air of unapproachability, which isn’t my forte, until it was socially acceptable to go home.

Someone caught my gaze as I absently scanned the room. 

They were talking to a second year I recognized from meetings. The two of them were standing off to one side, as if they felt a little out of place. The person with them was a stranger to me, but they met and held my eyes steadily. The directness of that look sent a shiver down my spine.

A moment later, they broke eye contact and turned back to their friend, whose name I knew but couldn’t remember. I saw them say something, and it must have been about me because their friend glanced in my direction right after. With detached curiosity, I watched their exchange end. They glanced back and caught me looking at them still, and I felt the first inklings of a blush creep up my neck. I pushed my hair, which I had worn in loose, messy waves, over one shoulder and took a sip from my drink.

My attention didn’t seem to faze them because the next thing I knew they were parting the crowd to introduce themself to me. “Hi,” they smiled, their voice cool and rich despite talking over the music, “I’m Yuuji Terushima. I’ve been told that proper introductions need pronoun preferences, mine are she, her, hers.”

I tilted my head, intrigued by her easy confidence, and said, “Koushi Sugawara, I also prefer feminine pronouns.”

Her warm smile broadened, and I caught a flash of something metallic on her tongue when she spoke,  “Sugawara-san, it’s nice to meet you.” She glanced around the room and said, “My friend over there, Giichi, has been trying to convince me to join this club with him.”

Curious, I contemplated her, swirling my cup in one hand. I noticed she didn’t have a drink of her own and momentarily considered offering to get her one. I decided against it, instead choosing to see if she was after what I thought she was.  I replied, “It’s my third year as a member, and I really enjoy it.”

She smiled, and edged a little closer to me as someone passed behind her. After they had passed, she stayed close, leaning one shoulder on the wall I was resting against. This caught my attention, and I angled my body towards her. She was cute, and had been gifted with an athletic build and sun-kissed skin. Her hair was long, ink black until it ombred into a warm blonde a few shades lighter than her dark amber eyes. Her gaze flickered from my face and down my body before she smiled coyly and met my eyes again.

_ Getting checked-out by an attractive girl will never lose its appeal, _ I thought, pleasure warming my blood.

“Yeah, last year I was in one of the clubs for queer girls but they weren’t very organized,” she said, dropping her eyes shyly.

I took a sip to hide my grin, amused by the way she had gone about outing herself to me. “My freshman year I was in a really good one, but it kind of fell apart when the club president graduated. Some of the other LGBT clubs on campus can be kind of male-centric, but this one is really welcoming,” by now, I had bent a little closer so that I wouldn’t have to raise my voice over the music as much. She leaned into my words, and I added, “It would be nice to see you at Alliance meetings, though.”

Terushima grinned, which gave her a decidedly impish look, “I guess I’ll have to come, then.” She looked pointedly at my cup, “What are you drinking?”

“Tequila and coke, with lime,” she lifted her eyebrows, and I asked if she wanted to try it.

She took the cup wordlessly, keeping her dark eyes trained on me as she took a sip.  She returned it to me with a wrinkled nose, “Interesting combination.”

I laughed, “It’s not for everyone.”

“I’m going to get a drink, can I get you a refill?” she asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

I thought about her offer for a brief moment, measuring how I felt after my first two drinks. I did want another, but I wanted to keep flirting, too, so I said, “I’ll come with you.”

Looking pleased, she turned to lead the way, gently touching my shoulder to guide me in the process. I followed, and caught a glance of Aoki and Ryota laughing at me from the dance floor.  _ They were probably hoping for something like this to happen _ , I thought, ignoring them, which probably only made them laugh harder.

The kitchen, removed from the living room and the party in general, was quiet. Separated by a narrow hallway and a tacky beaded hanging, it provided the illusion of privacy. Terushima walked to the counter and paused in front of the mess of bottles and cups crammed onto the sticky surface. She delicately pulled bottles of tequila and coke to the front of the line and then pushed them towards me, asking “How’d you come up with that?”

“A friend of mine turned me onto it, she spent a semester here for her study away and wouldn’t drink anything else.” I eyed the counter and grabbed shot glass that appeared relatively clean. I poured a healthy shot and dumped that into my cup before sliding it to Terushima, who was lifting bottles to look at the labels.

“Ah, that explains it. Do the seniors throw these parties often?” she asked, she held up a bottle, “Because I don’t think they’ve sold this brand in years.”

I laughed, which made me come close to spilling the soda I was pouring. “We don’t usually have them here.” I squeezed a slice of lime into my cup and rinsed my hands in the sink. When I was done drying them on a clean towel, I leaned against the counter to watch her finish. She finished pouring orange juice into her cup and capped the bottle.

Setting the bottle down, she swirled her cup and said while glancing at me, “That’s too bad, it’s a cool house.” She was either being obvious, or was really easy to read. She wore sincere expressions, and the way she focused her attention when I spoke made me genuinely like her. 

_ Yes, mine is cool too,  _ I thought, bemused at her current look,  _ but you won’t see it tonight. _ As a general rule, I didn’t bring flings back to my place. It felt too weird to have a stranger in my room and bed, and my nosey housemates didn’t help, either. “Yeah, the dancefloor is a little bigger here compared to where we normally have them.”

She took a drink from her cup, then added another splash juice to it. I hadn’t seen what she mixed, but I was guessing it was vodka-based.  Before I could inquire, she asked, “Do you dance much, Sugawara-san?”

“Suga is fine,” I said, “I usually do, but I’m not feeling up to it tonight.”

“No?” her defined brows piqued in curiosity, and she came to lean against the counter beside me. “Any particular reason?” Terushima took a long, steady drink while keeping her eyes trained on me.

I fought the urge to sigh because I wanted to be blunt. Usually I had plenty of patience for this, but tonight I was tempted to be more direct. I opted for a little bit of humor, because it was safe, “Mostly because it’s harder to drink while you’re dancing.”

She laughed, and it was a charming, lyrical sound. The way she tilted her head back to laugh reminded me of Daichi, and I quashed those thoughts in their tracks. I instead trained my attention on the curve of her jaw and the elegant slope of her shoulders. She was shorter than me, with a slender build and a cool sense of style. A pair of distressed black jeans sat high on her waist, paired with a snug floral print crop top that exposed a band of midriff. She wore a flannel tied around her hips and edgy patent leather Doc Martens. Her wrists were decorated by an assortment of silver bracelets, which matched her necklace and rings in a quirky, off beat way. Several piercings ornamented her ears, and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. I watched her bring her cup to her lips and decided at that moment that I wouldn’t mind going back to her place if she invited me.

The air changed between us, and I wondered briefly if my face had given my decision away. 

“Would I be able to convince you to dance with me when we finish these?” she asked, tilting her cup for emphasis.

I hummed, feigning thoughtfulness, which made her snicker. “I guess I could rally for a song or two.”

“Perfect,” she said, shifting so that her arm brushed against mine.

 

The rest of the night proceeded with reassuring, collegiate predictability. Terushima and I had finished our drinks slowly, talking in the kitchen. We didn’t have much in common in terms of interests or study, but our personalities meshed well enough to keep the conversation going long enough to squeeze in two drinks before our dance. She was a gender studies major with a quick wit, and she took every opportunity to give me a hard time, which was sort of refreshing. 

What wasn’t refreshing, however, was Jiri’s laughter when I dragged myself back to my house the next morning, wearing the same clothes as the night before.

“ _ Oh, _ ” she said pointedly, once she had caught her breath when I stumbled into the kitchen, “ _ Good morning _ , Koushi!” She was at the table on her computer. There were binders and books spread out around her, which really didn’t surprise me at all.

I shot her a dirty look and staggered to the coffee maker to pour myself a mug. I had spent the night at Terushima’s apartment, and between the cramped bed and the hooking up, I had gotten minimal sleep. I wasn’t feeling hung over, which is usually the result of the Alliance parties I attend, but I was still hurting.

“Ryota! Koushi’s back!” Jiri shouted in the direction of the hallway and moments later he appeared in the doorway, looking as perfect as ever. He was effortlessly beautiful, and it didn’t matter how little he slept or how much he drank, he always looked like he was fresh off of a photoshoot. It wasn’t fair.

I grumbled a greeting under my breath, then asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee, or are you just here to watch Jiri attempt to humiliate me?”

“Oh, both,” he said nonchalantly, settling into a chair at the counter. 

“Tell me everything, what were they like, what were they wearing, are they cute? They must be cute,” Jiri started. I sighed, readying to cups of coffee while she continued, “Do you know what year they are? Where do they live? How was the hook up?”

_ How  _ was _ the hookup?  _ I wondered briefly, and the memory of Terushima’s fingers trailing over the inside of my thighs made my skin prickle. I set a large cat-shaped mug in front of Ryota, his favorite for drinking coffee, and filled it. I poured a smaller mug for myself, with cream and sugar, and readied myself for the interrogation. The first drink was amazing, and the warmth that spread through my body made me feel like a normal person.  _ Blessed,  _ I thought, sending a silent thanks to the universe for the invention of coffee.

Once I finished reveling in that first sip, I set about answering the first of Jiri’s questions. “She was really cute, and her style was cool and gay, kind of like Haru’s, but more feminine. Long hair, brown eyes, tan skin—”

“So, basically, your type,” Jiri interrupted.

I felt a spark of irritation, mostly because based on my description, she was right. However, Terushima wasn’t  _ exactly _ my type, her features were a just little too light. “Yeah, my type,” I confirmed drily. “She’s a second year, and she’s a gender studies major.” I glanced at Ryota, “You know that guy Giichi that comes to meetings sometimes? They’re friends, that’s how she ended up at the party.”

He shrugged, “The name isn’t familiar.”

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know why I bothered telling you.” Ryota was notoriously bad with names, so my attempt had been a waste of breath. I took another long drink from my mug, savoring the sweet, comforting flavor of the coffee-flavored cream and sugar.

“I need more information,” Jiri prompted.

I turned my eyes back to her, “Her name is Yuuji Terushima, and she’s  _ cool _ .”

Ryota hummed approvingly, “I’m surprised you went home with her.”

I shrugged, still sort of unsure why I had done it myself. Flings weren’t really my thing. “I don’t know, we hit it off really well. And you know I’m a sucker for being pursued.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jiri said flatly, running a hand through her hair. “You get ‘pursued’ all the time and are able to resist pretty well.”

I was tempted to argue what she said, but she seemed too eager for that and I wasn’t in the mood to defend myself.  _ She probably has a bunch of examples already memorized _ , so I said, “Whatever you say,” and watched her deflate.

She pouted a little, then said, “You still haven’t answered my question about the quality of the hook up.”

“Hook up?” Haru’s voice drifted into the kitchen moments before they did. They padded into the kitchen and made for the fridge, taking in my appearance before opening it. “I was wondering where you were this morning, Koushi.” They had helped me pick out my outfit the night before, so even without our other roommates selling me out, they would have known.

I hung my head as Jiri filled them in, “ _ Right _ ? She just walked in like, ten minutes ago.”

Haru gave me an inscrutable look, and I got the distinct feeling that I was misunderstanding something important. “Did you have a good night?” they asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

“But,  _ how  _ good?” Jiri pressed.

“Gah, Jiri, you’re relentless,” I complained. “It was good, okay? We had really good chemistry.”

“Certainly looked that way, from the way you two were dancing,” Ryota said slyly, hiding his grin behind his mug. “Aoki made a point of mentioning it on our way back.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, and Haru came to my rescue, “Give the lady a break. Let her finish her coffee. It’s not every day Koushi comes home  _ satisfied _ .” They reached past me to get into the kitchen cabinet. I shimmied away from them, mortified.

_ That traitor!  _ “Oh my god,” I said, my face going scarlet. “You too?”

Haru laughed, and Jiri cackled from her spot at the table. “Sorry, friend, I can’t help it. When’s the last time you hooked up with anyone?”

I shook my head, and ran a hand through my messy hair nervously. “Oh, I don’t know, I had that one rebound when my first year girlfriend and I broke up.”

“Has it really been that long?” Ryota asked more seriously.

I glanced between the three of them, feeling suddenly exposed, “Uh, yes?”

“We’ve really, seriously let you down, then,” Jiri said grimly. She turned a finger in a loop, turning some of her chestnut hair into a twist before letting it fall again. It was something she did when she was thinking hard about a problem. I usually saw the gesture when she was studying, and I wasn’t happy about seeing it while she thought about my love life.

Groaning, I said, “No, you folks know that I don’t really do hook ups. If I wanted to date, I would.” I turned around to get away from their collective observant gaze, and poured myself some more coffee. 

“What made this lady different, then?” Haru asked. The feeling they had stirred up in me hadn’t faded, and I was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the group’s questioning.

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, hoping they would get bored from that answer.

“She’s  _ her type _ ,” Jiri stage-whispered.

Ryota hummed, ignoring Jiri’s comment, then asked, “Did you get her number, then?”

I nodded mutely, then took a sip of my coffee. 

“ _ Yes! _ That is great news,” Jiri said excitedly, all but jumping from her seat.

“It is good,” Ryota said slowly, “But are you going to call her?”

“I might,” I replied, my thoughts lingering on the night before. Her laugh, in particular, stuck with me. “If you guys keep making such a big deal out of it, though, I won’t!” I said threateningly. 

Haru rolled their eyes, as if they knew exactly what was coming my way.


	4. Terrible Invasions

I was out with Terushima the first time I saw Daichi on campus.

We actually weren’t on campus proper, but at the closest and most popular coffee shop. It was midafternoon on a snowy Thursday, and we were both done with work for the day. We were drinking warm, sweet things and pretending to study, but really flirting, when I felt her enter.

A soft flurry of midwinter air pushed her into the cafe and right into my attention. I don’t know what it was, because I hadn’t noticed when anyone else came in, but the second she arrived my eyes were on her. She was alone, and wearing the same grey scarf she had been wearing when I saw her at the convenience store during winter break. A dark hat, speckled with glittering snow, sat low on her head. I watched her pull it off and shake it out by the doorway before stuffing it into her coat pocket. A plain black backpack hung from one shoulder, and I wondered if she were here to study. She went to the counter to order and pay, smiling at the cashier the whole time. She stepped to the side to wait for her order, and I glanced at the menu, trying to guess what she may have wanted.

Fingers snapping in front of my face pulled my attention back to the table. Terushima withdrew her hand, and I felt a surge of irritation roll through me. The gesture had been really rude, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to let it slide.

“Earth to Suga,” she said cheerily, though her expression was more serious. It had been a few weeks since our first night together, and I was beginning to see more of these tendencies from her. It wasn’t enough to turn me off from her yet, because she was generally more laid back, but there were things that were starting to bother me. She texted me a lot, probably too much, and her interest in me had grown to extend past our physical chemistry. I could feel a _conversation_ brewing on the horizon, but hadn’t had the energy to face it head on yet. She seemed unwilling to talk about what she wanted, so I left it alone.

I tried not to let my feelings show on my face, “Terushima, I’m sorry that I was distracted, but would you mind tapping me on the shoulder next time?” I was pleased with how neutral my voice sounded, and hoped she would be receptive to the request.

She pouted, which I had found endearing at the party, but now found annoying. Pouting was her first reaction to just about everything that didn’t go her way. “Where’d you go just now?” she asked, thoroughly ignoring my request. There was a little click as she tapped her tongue stud against her teeth, then, “Also, I told you, Yuuji is fine.”

I looked at her, briefly wondering if it was worth it to finish our date. All of our other meetings had ended back at her place, in her bed, but I currently was not feeling very attracted to her. She was beautiful, in a red crushed velvet sweater and her hair styled in loose waves, but her behavior was wearing on me.

We had agreed to coffee, but our other coffee dates had all ended in her bed. When she invited me out for today, she had hinted at going to her place after, but I wasn’t feeling particularly attracted to her. “Sorry, Yuuji. I was thinking about ordering another drink,” I lied. She had been pretty insistent on using first names, but it didn’t feel right to me quite yet. The first time she had tried to call me Koushi, the morning after that first night, I told her that all of my friends just called me Suga, which she had been sticking to for the most part. One of the other things I was learning about her was that she tended to push boundaries.

“Oh, I can get something for you, if you’d like,” she offered. Terushima glanced at my mug and frowned because it was still mostly full. I was beginning to feel kind of tired.

“It’s okay, I’m just having buyer’s remorse,” I said lightly, “I should have gotten the special after all.” I reached for my mug and turned it in my hands, my fingers soaking up the warmth of the ceramic.

“Suga?”

I sighed, then tilted my head to smile at Daichi, who had apparently spotted me and decided come over to our table. She glanced between me and Terushima, no doubt noticing the way our chairs were shoved close together. Even to her it had to be obvious that she had walked in on something Gay (tm). She looked back to me, and her expression was friendly and open. There was no sign of disgust or curiosity or anything notable on her face.

“Hi, Daichi,” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. To save myself, I made an obvious show taking a long sip.

Relief, curiosity, and something else flickered over her face. The last emotion was gone before I could decipher it. She cradled a to-go cup in her ungloved hands, and asked “How are you?” It was held close to her chest, as if she were nervous. Her shoulders were relaxed, however, and she was holding herself with the confidence she had been missing when I saw her last. Her scarf was piled high around her chin, and her hat had left her hair sticking in different directions. There were bags under her eyes, but otherwise she looked put together.

“I’m alright,” I said, but I could feel Terushima’s eyes boring into the side of my head, which was making me less than alright. “How are you settling in?”

She grinned, and at once I was struck with a painful familiarity, “Yeah, I have a place pretty close to campus, and my workload this semester is pretty light. My credits all transferred so I can I can take it easy.” She glanced at Terushima again, and I felt tension enter our three-person bubble.

“That’s good,” I said, then turned my body to acknowledge Terushima, who was sitting stiffly beside me. “This is Yuuji Terushima, and Terushima, this is Daichi Sawamura.”

“Nice to meet you,” Daichi said, she smiled thinly at Terushima, who didn’t seem all that interested in the introduction.

“Sawamura-san,” she said flatly, “How do you two know each other, if you’re transferring here?”

“Oh, Koushi and I were good friends in high school,” there was a wistful twist of her words, and I noticed too late that I had called her by her first name when she had come up to the table. She was quick to call me by mine, and dread stirred in my gut. I could feel the discomfort rolling off of Terushima in waves.

 _I might have fucked this up_ , I thought. For whatever reason, though, it didn’t bother me too much that Terushima was upset. I hadn’t intended on my interactions with Daichi to be so familiar, but I had slipped into old habits out of surprise. Even though I knew she was on campus and around, seeing her in my haunts was more surprising than running into her in a convenience store two blocks from my mom’s house in the middle of the night. I steeled myself to see the rest of the situation through to the end.

Fortunately, Daichi picked up on the vibes Terushima was laying down, and gracefully bowed out of the situation. “I saw you over here and just wanted to say hi. This is the first time I had been to this cafe, and it was nice to see you here”

“Yeah,” I said, and in an attempt to avoid unpacking what she meant by _it was nice to see you here_ , I added, “It’s pretty popular, and it’s almost always crowded.” _Yep, everyone comes here, nothing to see here. Please leave._

She glanced around the packed seating area, and nodded, “I can tell. I have a meeting with my advisor, so I have to get going. I’ll um,” she glanced between me and Terushima again, and said, “I’ll call you sometime, if your number is the same. I’d still like for you to show me around.”

Terushima stiffened beside me, and I wondered what she was seeing that I wasn’t. “Okay,” I said slowly, “It is, but I’m pretty busy this week and next, though.”

Daichi shrugged with an easy confidence, as if it didn’t bother her that I was still pushing her away. She probably expected it, which was ideal for me. “I’m still figuring my schedule out, too. I’ll see you.” She smiled at Terushima warmly, “Again, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

I glanced at Terushima, and saw a well-defined look of displeasure on her pretty features.

“By the way,” Daichi added, pausing as she turned to leave, “If you haven’t tried the special, you should.” She tilted held her cup up for a moment, “It’s really good.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Terushima replied.

“Later, Koushi.”

“Bye,” I said, keeping my eyes on her back as she slipped away again. I noticed when she left that there were two bells on the door, which chimed brightly when she passed by. When her presence had dissipated from the room, I turned back to Terushima. She was watching me, and for once I couldn’t read her expression. I could translate snippets of her, and the thing that came out clear was that she was upset.

“You must be good friends,” she said, and the second part of her sentence hung silently in the air between us. _Since you called her by her first name._

“We were,” I said, pulling my mug closer to me. I didn’t want to explain it to her. I didn’t want to tell her that seeing Daichi kicked up all sorts of things that Terushima would never be able to replicate in my heart. _Is that good, or bad?_ If I tried to reassure Terushima in that moment, I would have had to admit that Daichi was worth worrying about. I wasn’t really ready to put that into words, because I wasn’t sure if it was true. I didn’t want it to be true.

She picked up her pencil and began to tap it on her notebook. “Were you on that sports team together?”

 _That sports team_ , I mentally repeated, revelling the way she had reduced it to nothing. I tried to keep my voice light, “Yeah. We fell out of touch when we went to different schools, though.” It was mostly the truth, and it would have to do. It left a bad taste in my mouth.

Terushima relaxed, just a little, into her chair. She checked her phone, “Hey, Suga, I just realized that my roommates and I have a house meeting today. I know we were supposed to go to mine later, but do you mind if we reschedule?”

 _Ah, now she’s back to being easy to read._ Her dark eyes didn’t want to meet mine, and I caught the downturn of her mouth at the excuse. “Not at all,” I said, this time meaning it.

“I should actually get going now if I want to make it on time,” she said, and began to pack up her things. She didn’t close her notebooks or put her pencil back into its case, instead choosing to toss everything into her bag in a hurry. She kissed me on the cheek lightly and said, “Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you next time.”

As she began to make her escape, I wondered if using her first time would help the situation or make it worse, so I just smiled and said, “Sounds good, see you later.”

 

The next time I saw Daichi, she was in my kitchen, leaning against the counter while talking to Jiri.

I froze in the doorway, blinking. I had spent all night in the lab, trying to correct the code I had been unsuccessfully using to model protein structure for my advisor. For a second, I wondered if I was seeing things. _Too much coding, not enough sleep,_ my brain churned out. _That’s all it is._

“Oh, Koushi, welcome home,” Jiri caught sight of me and smiled. Her face softened when she took in my appearance. I probably looked haggard, because she asked sympathetically “Long night in the lab?”

“Thanks. Yes.” I said automatically, unable to stop staring at Daichi, who was looking at the two of us with mild confusion.

Jiri saw Daichi’s expression and said, “Oh, Koushi, this is Sawamura-san, she’s in one of my classes. We got paired up for a presentation.”

“We know each other,” I said, and then turned around to go to my room. I didn’t bother saying anything else, I just stumbled away. I made it to my room on muscle memory alone, and then collapsed onto my bed. I heard Ryota shuffling around in his room, which shared a wall with mine, and let my eyes close. I tried not to think about Daichi, in my house, invited into my kitchen or living room or hallway or bathrooms. I tried not to think about her downstairs, puzzled by my reaction to her presence. I tried not to think about her climbing the stairs and coming into my room, or seeing my bed. I shuddered and tried to focus on sleeping.

It had only been a few days since I saw her at the cafe. Terushima was still upset with me, but she hadn’t yet vocalized what she wanted from me. But it seemed like Daichi was showing up in my life more and more. I pushed back against thinking, and focused on the comforting sound of Ryota getting ready for his day.

I began to dream before I even fell asleep, my mind leading me through the misty in-between of sleep and consciousness. Foggy images of snowstorms and floods took me to a deep sleep.

I woke up several hours later, around midday, feeling like garbage warmed over. Lack of sleep made me feel worse than any poorly planned combination of alcohol and crappy dancing, and my whole body felt like lead. I rolled over, digging myself deeper into my covers before deciding that I needed to get up and be productive for the afternoon. At the very least, I needed to change out of my stale, rumpled outfit. When I checked the time, I saw a text from Terushima and left it for later.

Stretching, I let my mind wander. I wasn’t completely awake yet, and was letting the problems I was grappling with the night before unravel after the short sleep. I mentally kicked myself for staying up all night, because I _knew_ the second I gave it a break, I would figure out what was wrong with my program. Now I knew exactly what I needed to do, and I would have come to the same conclusion of I hadn’t been so stubborn about fixing it the night before. I sighed, then flopped over.

 _I’ll have to reschedule dinner with Hinata and Kageyama,_ I thought grimly, looking at my calendar. As if on cue, a message from Hinata blinked onto my screen, filling it with excitement. I hadn’t seen her since the train ride back to campus and when I scrolled through our messages I saw that I had already rescheduled twice. _When did I become so flakey? I should just suck it up and go_. I quickly replied with similar enthusiasm and dropped my phone onto the bed beside me. They had practice, so it would be a late dinner, at least. I had time to recuperate.

With a sigh, I hauled myself out of bed and pulled off my clothes. I felt thoroughly gross. My hair was heavy and sticky from the stuffiness of the lab, and my hands smelled of the neoprene gloves I wore when I was working on my advisor’s experiment. I had managed to squeeze in a couple of tasks for her when I took breaks from pulling my hair out over my own project. I grabbed my towel from where it hung on the back of my door and went to take a shower.

Fortunately, no one was in the bathroom, so I could go right for it. Typically, midday was the worst time to try to get clean. With five people and two bathrooms to share, the weekday rush was bad. I ran the water until it was scalding, and took my time washing my hair. I absentmindedly noticed that fell almost to my elbows, and made a note to have it trimmed.

Once I was clean, I felt refreshed and more awake. A cup of coffee and a fresh outfit would round me out for the rest of the day, so I skipped drying my hair to get to both of those more quickly. I chose a pair of black, fleece-insulated leggings, knit socks with a cute animal pattern, a grey cotton tee, and an oversized powder blue cardigan. The other thing I loved about winter, besides the weather, was the range of cozy clothing I could wear. I sighed as the soft material of the cardigan slipped over my arms.

I padded down the stairs, finger combing my wet hair as I went. Snippets of conversation met my ears, and I rounded the corner to the kitchen. I locked eyes with Daichi and stopped dead in the doorway. _I thought I dreamt you_ , I thought at Daichi, as if she could hear me.

“ _There_ you are,” Jiri said, already irritated with me by the sound of her voice. “Are you a real human again?”

Clearing my throat, I said, “Uh, yeah. I pulled an all-nighter in the lab. My body was on autopilot this morning. So, sorry about that.”

Unfettered concern flickered over Daichi’s face, and I turned my whole body so I wouldn’t have to see it. I robotically made my way to the coffee maker and pulled a mug from the dishrack. “You seemed pretty out of it, are you okay?” Daichi’s voice, rich with sympathy, filled the room.

My hands trembled as I reached for the coffee pot. I felt like I was under attack, but I said, “Yeah, I’m just going to rest up a little before heading out for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, are you still going to see Hinata and Kageyama for dinner tonight?” Jiri, bless her heart, had the best memory of anyone I had ever met. But it didn’t seem like she knew that _this_ Daichi was _the_ Daichi. So now, on top of her having invited _the_ Daichi into our home, she had invited Daichi into the little bubble I had begun to craft with my old teammates.

I didn’t want this. I hadn’t wanted Daichi to meet my roommates. I didn’t want her to know that Hinata and Kageyama were friends of mine, or that they were finally dating. Not when they were still figuring things out. I didn’t want her to know that I was seeing Terushima. I didn’t want her in my life at all, but she wouldn’t quit.

I grimaced, mentally cursing at Jiri. _A thousand inconveniences for you, goddammit. I hope you lose your keys and burn your coffee._

“Hinata and Kageyama go here?”

“Yeah, I see them every once in awhile,” I said, my voice stiff even to my ears. I went through the motions of making my coffee and added too much cream in the process. I poured a portion of the too-sweet coffee into the sink and topped it off with some from the pot.

“How are they? Do they still play?” she sounded like her old self for a moment, like she had forgotten that she was once a captain until I had mentioned the duo. I could almost hear the gears in her brain turning to put together fresh, inventive strategies.

I turned around, grabbing a paper towel from the bar. They sat at the dinner table, their laptops open and notebooks and notes strewn across the surface. I noticed that Daichi had a different computer. “They still play,” I said, and I watched her face carefully, “They’re good. They live together. They’re dating.” I hadn’t meant to say that, it just slipped out. But my heart beat harder when I said it. I wanted to know, so badly, if she had changed.

Her brows lifted in surprise, but not disgust. She didn’t laugh, either. She broke eye contact with me, probably because I was staring her down, and said, “G-good for them.”

“Yeah,” I said, “Really good.”

Jiri’s dark brown eyes flickered between the two of us, watching the exchange. I was _not_ looking forward to the play-by-play and commentary she would rope me into later.

“Tell them I said hello? I haven’t spoken to them in a long time.” She dropped her head, sounding regretful. Her fingers skirted over the top of her keyboard before she tucked her hair behind one ear.

“Sure.” I took a sip of coffee and found it lukewarm. _Of course, it’s probably been here for five damn hours already._ I found myself getting aggravated, and put it in the microwave. _All I wanted was a cup of coffee, and here she is, fucking up my day._ My anger was irrational, I knew, but that didn’t change my feelings. Sleep deprivation brings out the worst in me.

Jiri seemed ready to add to the fuckery, because the next thing I heard was her saying, “How’s Terushima?”

It took every ounce of strength I had to not turn around and bite her head off. I stiffened my shoulders and watched my mug spin lazily in the microwave. It hummed as the plate turned, and I felt myself calm, only slightly. I managed to say, “She’s fine,” in a voice that seemed normal.

“She’s the one I met the other day, right?”

I could practically feel Jiri’s eyes on the back of my head. I willed her to not stir the pot any more. “Yeah.”

Of course, that was not in Jiri’s repertoire. It wasn’t her style, and it was really not her thing. If there was a pot to be stirred, she would stir it, vigorously. So she said, “Oh, you met Koushi’s girlfriend?”

 _God fucking dammit, Jiri, mind your own fucking business._ Mentally, I was screaming. Now I was convinced that she knew who was at our table. Suddenly, the fight drained out of me. I was too tired to deal with this. It was bad enough that Daichi was in my house, and now she was in my business? “Terushima isn’t my girlfriend.” The microwave beeped, and I snatched my mug out of it. “Good luck with your project.” I grumbled, leaving the room without looking at them.


	5. Aiming for Balance

“I don’t care. I don’t want her here.”

Aoki, Jiri, and Haru stared back at me. Ryota was at work, but the rest of us were at home, sitting around in the living room. We had been watching tv, until Jiri had, of course, filled in the rest of the house about what had happened with Daichi that morning. I was surprised by their complete lack of understanding and empathy, and found myself growing irritated with them. I studied the tv screen, which was paused on a crappy American game show that Jiri loved. I didn’t understand the appeal, but everyone has their garbage shows.

Aoki sighed, “I know, Koushi.” Her voice, sweet and mellow, did nothing to sooth me. “And we’re trying to be understanding—”

“Despite what you may think,” Haru interrupted quickly, reading my face.

Sending them a warning look, Aoki finished, “But you have to understand that Jiri is allowed to invite people over. It’s her house too.”

I rubbed my eyes, “I’m not saying it isn’t. I just don’t understand why you’re all pushing the issue. I don’t want her in my life.”

Jiri, for once, was quiet, so Haru said, “Look, Koushi. The reason that we’re pushing the issue is because it’s  _ still _ an issue for you. You know better than anyone that I don’t put a time limit on healing, but unless there’s something you’re not telling us… it just seems unlike you that you’re holding so much resentment over a rejection from three years ago.”

“You don’t even hold this much anger for your ex-girlfriend and she like, called you all sorts of names when you broke up,” Jiri complained.

“But she apologized for that—” I started.

Haru shook their head, “That just proves our point. She called you some really nasty stuff, and you were still able to move past it. It could be argued that at the time, Daichi was too young to handle it any better. Her best friend came out as gay  _ and then  _ confessed to her, those are two pretty big bombs to drop on a seventeen year old.”

Nodding, Aoki added, “And we know that she was cruel about it, but you also said that she reached out to you after, right?”

“Yes,” I said begrudgingly. “But she never  _ apologized _ .”

Haru sighed, giving me a pitying look before saying, “People need the chance to apologize. If you shut her out when she tried to…” They set their chin on their palm and looked at me without finishing their thought. They were sitting on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with a plate of snacks in front of them. “Look, Koushi. We love you, and we just want you to think about why this is bothering you so much. We get that it was easier when she was at a different school, but this is the reality.”

“Also, we’re paired up for the remainder of this semester,” Jiri said rationally, “She said we could work at her house, but it would be nice if we could split the responsibility of hosting.”

I closed my eyes, trying to clamp down on the gut reaction I had to the possibility of Daichi being around  _ consistently  _ for  _ months _ . “Fine,” I said after a long moment. “Just, give me a heads up? I know you’re all coming from a good place with this.” I sighed, feeling defeated, “Because I trust you, I’ll think about what you said.”  _ I guess it really isn’t healthy to be so worked up over something from so long ago, but it really is how I feel… but I’ll have to work on it. _ I glanced at the clock, it was a few minutes past eight and just about time for me to head to dinner. 

They seemed satisfied with my response, and the tension drained out of the room. Until it was gone, I hadn’t even realized it was there. Guilt flickered through me, and I realized that they were right about me needing to work on it. 

“Thanks, Koushi,” Jiri seemed really relieved, and I felt a little worse.

“Yeah, thanks for the reality check,” I said before fleeing.

At the entryway, I shrugged into my coat, slipped on my shoes, and left without saying anything else to my roommates. The air was cold enough to make my eyes sting and my nose run, and I scolded myself for forgetting my hat and scarf. I decided against going back for them because the walk to the restaurant seemed like just the thing I needed to calm down. I zipped my coat higher and popped collar, then shook my hair free so it could cover my ears a little better. As I quietly walked, I considered what Haru had been saying.  _ Is it possible, that she tried to apologize to me then? _ I blew a big puff of air into the night, then thought,  _ If she did, would that change anything now? We’ll never be able to be friends again _ .  _ Not after what she said. _

Before I could follow the train of thought any further, I heard a shout and caught an orange blur hurdling towards me. Startled, I stepped to the side and let Hinata stumble past me. She slid precariously on a patch of ice, but in classic Hinata style, spun around and caught me in an embrace without missing a beat. “Suga! It’s been so long!”

Laughing, I ruffled her chaotic hair, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. How is your semester going? And why aren’t you wearing a hat?”

She peeled herself off me, and I saw Kageyama marching from the direction of campus. They must have gone home instead of leaving straight from practice, which I had expected them to do. 

“It’s good! Way easier than the last one,” she stepped to the side and waited for Kageyama to meet us. She kept her wide, warm brown eyes on Kageyama, her lips parted in a half smile. “I couldn’t find my hat when we were leaving.”

“What about you, Kageyama?” I asked when she reached us. She looked grumpier than usual, which was saying something. 

Hinata snapped out of her doe-eyed daze and nudged my arm. Based on the weird expression on her face, she was probably trying to tell me something. I couldn’t pick out her meaning, though.

Kageyama paused in front of us. “The semester is fine,” she answered, her voice low and sharp.

“Doesn’t seem fine,” I said, leading the way towards the restaurant.

“The semester isn’t the problem.”

I glanced at Hinata, who shrugged while explaining, “We lost our practice match today. Kageyama and one of the alternate spikers got into an argument over the plays she was choosing.”

Grimacing, I tried to be sympathetic, “If she’s an alternate, and picking fights with Kageyama, she probably doesn’t realize how much of her spiking power is due to Kageyama’s setting.”

“That’s what  _ I  _ said,” Kageyama growled, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Hinata fell in step beside her and linked their arms The contact didn’t seem to do much in the way of calming her down, but Kageyama gave Hinata a semi-appreciative look all the same. 

I blew some air through my lips to keep from chuckling, “She probably didn’t like hearing that, though.”

“Ah, yeah,” Hinata winced, “Things got a little uglier after that, so a couple of us will have some extra conditioning to do over the weekend.”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Losing the first one of semester will do that.” I gestured ahead of us, “The place I was telling you about is on the corner. Some good food should help you feel better.”

The restaurant I had suggested was a couple of blocks from campus and tucked away on a side street. As a result, it didn’t get too much traffic during the week because of typical college-kid laziness. The restaurant was locally owned by an immigrant family and served fresh empanadas and fusion noodle dishes. Their prices had been creeping up recently, but the food was always amazing so I stuck with it.

“I can’t believe this place is so close!” Hinata said, trotting up to the door. She pulled it open and held it for us. “We could stop here on the way back from practice.”

I grinned as the smell of fresh, savory food drifted through my nose and to the pleasure center of my brain, “I thought that’s what you were going to do.”

“We weren’t sure where it was, exactly,” Kageyama said, carefully taking in the trendy black-and-pink decor of the room. I watched her eye the art decorating the walls, and was pleased when she nodded to herself in satisfaction. “We tried to guess which way you would be coming from.”

“I gave you the address,” I said, walking up to the counter. I snagged three laminated menus and handed them one each after saying hello to the lady at the register. She was leaning against the counter with a phone pressed to her ear as she recorded an order. She smiled broadly at me in return, and gestured that she would be a moment longer.

I nodded and looked down at my menu, even though I already knew what I wanted.

“Yeah, you know how bad Hinata is with directions,” Kageyama said, looking over the options. Her eyes widened slightly at the selection, and I grinned.

“Oh? And what about you?” I teased.

She started to blush, and asked, “Any recommendations?”

Letting her evasion slide, I said, “The chicken ones are my favorite, but the beef ones are good. Other people really like the goat cheese and vegetable ones, but I usually stick with the classics.”

“Ohhh, arepas sound good,” Hinata said, tilting her menu so Kageyama could see. “Would you want to try this with me?”

Kageyama nodded, then flipped the menu over to consider the other choices. “Suga, how many should we order?”

I shrugged, “You’re probably pretty hungry from practice, right? I think eight and the arepas for the two of you will be fine. If not you can always order more.”

Hinata’s eyes went wide at my suggestion, and she mock-whispered, “Get ten,” to Kageyama.

She rolled her eyes at the request, but agreed. “I’m picking what we’re getting though.”

I watched in amusement as they placed their huge order. Hinata tried to pay, but was swatted away by Kageyama, who had pulled her card out of her wallet before Hinata even had a chance. I went ahead with my order and added a couple of fruity sodas to my tab to share with the table. I definitely owed the two of them for being flakey, and after the intervention with my roommates it felt good to do something nice. I took the bottles to my favorite table, which was by the door, in a three-sided window. From there, you could watch people walk past. Their looks of envy when they saw the food was always amusing.

When the food arrived to our table, they took a break from telling me about volleyball long enough to be amazed. They had four plates between the two of them, a large one with a spread of pork-topped arepas and three with different piles of empanadas. The server brought me an extra plate, winking as she left it. On it were three alfajores cookies for dessert.

“Gah! Suga, this looks incredible!” Hinata practically had stars shining in her eyes, and gratitude at their easy friendship rushed through me Their expectations from me were minimal, and they were easy to be around. Happiness filled me, my spirits thoroughly lifted by the good company and good food.

Kageyama took a tentative bite from the arepas, and her face transformed from hesitation to bliss. This made me laugh, and I edged a plate of sauces closer, “Try putting these on your empanadas.” I pointed to one that was primarily made of chilli flakes, “This one is my favorite but—” I blanched as Hinata picked it up and drenched an empanada before taking a huge bite, “—it’s pretty spicy,” I finished.

As soon as the heat his her tongue her entire face turned bright red. “Hah-t!” she gasped, sticking her tongue out. The second half of the empanada fell back to her place, making the savory mountain topple over.

“Hinata you’re such a dumbass!” Kageyama barked, shoving a bottle of soda into her hands before she could even reach for it. “Chug that, the sugar will help dull the heat.” She slid the plate farther into the table to keep Hinata’s destructive radius from growing. 

She quickly did as instructed, almost knocking the bottle out of Kageyama’s hands before bringing it to her lips. She downed the whole thing and sputtered on her breath once it was empty. “Oh my god, Suga, that was really spicy!”

“No shit,” Kageyama said sardonically. “If you had just  _ listened _ .”

Hinata shot her a dirty look, “Let’s see you try it!”

“I’m not an idiot—” she started to protest, but Hinata elbowed her in the ribs warningly. 

They were starting to rile themselves up and I couldn’t help it, I burst into laughter. I laughed until tears sprang to my eyes and I was out of breath. Every time I felt like I was about to have it under control I remembered some other ridiculous detail about Hinata’s face or Kageyama’s reaction. I was wheezing by the time my laughter had bubbled out of existence and the tension from earlier faded with it. I wiped a tear from my eye and shook my head, eyeing the two of them. “You’re unreal,” I said in awe. 

They exchanged a look, their bickering evaporated by my reaction. “What do you mean?” Kageyama asked, tentatively stepping back into the conversation.

“I just,” I giggled again, “God, that as like something out of a cartoon. And how you two are constantly fighting, even still.” I waved a hand at their puzzled expressions, “You’re both funny. I appreciate how genuine you both are.”  _ It’s so refreshing. _

Hinata cleared her throat and reached for one of the other sauces, looking at me for affirmation before drizzling some over a fresh empanada. “Huh, well,” she shrugged, “Thanks?” 

“It’s a good thing,” I promised, taking a bite of my own chicken empanada. Warm, seasoned perfection filled my mouth, and I felt totally at ease. While I chewed, they portioned out a few of each flavor onto their respective piles. 

“Do you want to try this, Suga?” Hinata asked, pushing the plate of arepas towards me.

I shook my head, gesturing to my own plate, which held a side of the shop’s signature fusion noodles in addition to the empanadas. “I’m alright! But feel free to try any of this.”

Hinata nodded gratefully, and we all continued eating, occasionally trading bites of things or asking for the sauces. The conversation was light and unintrusive, and it wasn’t until the end of the meal that I said, “So, Daichi transferred here.”

Kageyama’s brows lifted. She had tapped out of the meal long before Hinata, who was still steadily working through the arepas. “She did?”

Pausing around a bite, Hinata added, “That’s great!”

_ Yeah, great _ , I thought drily. I cleared my throat, “Yeah, she just transferred here this semester. I don’t see her much,”  _ because I don’t want to _ , “But I did tell her you were around.” I studied their faces, “And, I sort of outed you. I’m sorry for doing that without your permission.”

Kageyama and Hinata shared a glance, then Hinata shrugged. Kageyama glanced away and took a sip of the remaining soda, while Hinata said, “It’s just Daichi.”

I studied their faces individually. They had only known Daichi as their captain from their first year. Kageyama’s brows had drawn back together, and she seemed embarrassed.  _ Since I knew, maybe she’s wondering if Daichi knew, too. Or maybe she’s just nervous about other people knowing _ .

Then I remembered Daichi’s reaction from that morning.  _ It’s just Daichi _ , I echoed.


	6. Boundary Crossings

Life proceeded normally for a little while. I was getting a lot done for my advisor and was able to earn extra money by being a teaching assistant for the intro biology classes again. I had been seeing Terushima frequently, because the physical chemistry we shared was  _ unreal _ . She’d been hinting at becoming official, but after an indirect and awkward conversation, we had settled on being “exclusive.” Which meant we were in a watered-down relationship with a clearly marked exit just out of view. It suited me and seemed to satisfy her in the short term.

For a few weeks, I didn’t see Daichi. She didn’t come around to work with Jiri, and despite having promised that she would call, she didn’t. Every once in awhile I would remember her question about my phone number and angrily think,  _ Not so reliable now, are you? _ I never bothered to think about why that upset me.

I figured that when she did finally call, I would be ready to ignore it. I did  _ not _ expect to be at Terushima’s house, slipping back into my bra and t-shirt after a “date”. When my phone started to ring, I was sitting on the bed, in the middle of closing my bra clasps. The ringing startled us both.

At first, I sent a puzzled look to where it sat on the bedside table. It was a little too far for me to reach, and I couldn’t see who was calling. Not being one to answer a call when I was still in bed with someone, I just let it be and continued dressing. I adjusted the cups and band to sit more comfortably while scanning the floor for my buttondown. I was just about to snag it off the ground and crawl back to Terushima for attention when she got it in her head to answer my phone for me.

I watched, dumbfounded, as she said, “Hello?”

Once her actions registered, anger rolled through me, and held out my hand to her. My expression combined with my gesture should have been enough to indicate that I was  _ not _ happy, but she held a finger up to me as she said, “No, this is Yuuji. But, yes, Koushi’s here, did you want to talk to her?” In the back of my head, I remembered the time she had snapped her fingers in front of my face to get my attention, as if I had been a disobedient pet.

My balled my fist around my shirt, crumpling the material. This was the final straw. It was  _ my _ phone, and there wasn’t a single creature on earth that would use my phone number to reach Yuuji, and there was no reason for her to answer it. Like most of what she did, it was meant to force a new level of intimacy between us. I watched her, with one hand outstretched, as she ignored me.

There was a pause, then, “Hold on, here.”

She finally passed me the phone, and I glanced at the screen. I saw Daichi’s name, and red flooded my vision, “Hello?”

“H-hi, Suga,” she sounded nervous, “I was just calling to see if we could make plans, but if this isn’t a good time—” 

_ Ah, Terushima, you probably answered it just for this reason _ , I thought, remembering her reaction to Daichi back at the coffee shop last month. I cleared my throat, struggling to get my emotions under control, “Actually, it’s sort of inconvenient, can I call you back later tonight?” That, at least, I could manage. I didn’t want to talk to her at all, but since Terushima had opened that door, I needed to walk through it.

“Oh, sure,” she said, then paused as if she were thinking. I couldn’t gage her without seeing her expression, but I wondered what she was thinking, after she worked herself up to call only to be answered by Terushima,  “I have a meeting for an hour, starting at 8, but otherwise I’ll be free.”

I glanced at the clock, it was almost seven. “Yeah, I’ll call you after, then.”

“Okay,” she said, then added surely, “Talk you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” The word didn’t register, I was looking at Terushima, who was rolled on her back, a smirk playing on her lips as she studied the texture of her ceiling.

I ended the call and set the phone on the bed beside me. Taking a deep breath, I slid my arms into my shirt and slowly began to button it. I pulled my hair from the collar and shook it out, taking my time in finger combing it into place. It might have been a whole minute until  I turned to look at Terushima squarely. I could barely contain my anger, because she had been pushing it since we met. “Yuuji,” I started, and her dark eyes flickered to meet mine.

“Suga.” She used the same, careful tone I was had, which only served to make me more irritated.

“Why did you answer my phone without my permission?”

She shrugged, “It was ringing, I didn’t want to be rude by letting Daichi go to voicemail.”

_ I knew it.  _ I thought, bristling at Daichi’s name. “Well, you were more than rude,” I said, biting back on my tongue.

Looking irritated, she pushed herself up and sat back against the wall. She raised her shoulders, asking “What?” defensively, as if she had done nothing wrong.

I squeezed nt jaw shut and tried to steady myself again. I wasn’t sure how to continue, so I tried, “Is this about the house thing?” She had been pushing to come stay over at my house, and the last time we had hung out together she had brought it up more than once.

“I just,” she started, sounding exasperated, “I don’t understand why you won’t invite me over.”

_ Because I don’t want you in my space! You can’t respect any of my boundaries already _ , I wanted to yell. I looked at my phone, so she couldn’t see my face. Suddenly, I was over it. She wanted too much from me, while simultaneously failing to vocalize exactly it was she wanted. “This isn’t working.”

“What?” she sounded genuinely surprised, and the fight drained out of her voice. “We’ve never even talked about what  _ this  _ is!”

_ We did, actually, a little.  _ I shrugged, eyeing my discarded pants while I mentally calculated how long it would take me to get them and get out of this situation. I knew part of this was my fault, because I hadn’t wanted to deal with it earlier. “It just seems like you want something more serious than what I want.”

“How do  _ you _ know what I want?”

I turned my gaze back to her. She had her knees drawn to her chest with the blankets pulled almost to her chin. Her hair was down and disheveled, and she was glaring at me fiercely. I started with the two most obvious examples, “Answering my phone, pushing for visits with your family.” This was my mistake. A thousand times over, my mistake. I should have put a stop to it then, or when she sent me Adele lyrics at three in the morning, or when she hinted about living together the next year. There was nothing inherently wrong with any of those things, but it was too much without any conversation. I had foolishly decided to ignore it instead of responding frankly. Instead I took the cowardly way out by agreeing to be exclusive.

“I told you I wouldn’t do ask you to meet them again!” she said, seeming frustrated, “You can’t bring that up to throw it in my face after I already apologized.”

I almost said,  _ I’m not throwing it in your face _ , but I knew from experience that she just usually heard only what she wanted to hear. “Look, either way. I’m upset, and I don’t want to see you again. I’m sorry to do it this way,” I said lamely, standing to finish getting dressed. I felt like a huge asshole, getting off, then then just bouncing? This was a new low. “But this is too much.” I tried to sound sincere, but I think my voice just came out tired. Grabbing my phone, I quickly tugged my pants on and up over my hips. I stuffed my phone in my back pocket, and it must have been my imagination, but it felt hot to the touch.

She was staring at the comforter now. Her expression was complex, there was a mixture of hurt, anger, and frustration all present on her pretty face. “Fine.” She lifted her eyes to meet mine, “Can I call you, though—?” She regretted answering my phone, because she hadn’t expected me to stand my ground.

“No,” I said, probably too quickly, “I don't want to hang out or hook up anymore.” I stood in the center of her room, my slacks unbuttoned, my shirt crooked, and my hair a mess. My face began to burn with shame, “I really am sorry.”  _ For not handling this better. For knowing what you wanted and not being able to provide it. For being a bad match. For being distracted. For keeping you distant, but around. Sorry sorry sorry. _

Terushima turned her face to the wall, “Please leave.”

That, at least, I could give her. I snagged my sweater from the ground and bolted. 

After I closed her door behind me, I paused to make myself presentable. I buttoned my slacks, righted my shirt, fixed my hair, and tugged my sweater over my head. Then, feeling like absolute scum, I rushed through putting on my shoes and coat to leave.

Thankfully, none of Terushima’s roommates were around to chit chat, and I was out the door before the reality of my shitty behavior could fully hit me. I began to walk, quickly, to the closest place that would be the mostly likely to have one of my friends— the art studios.

I walked fast enough to make myself breathless and kept my chin tucked low into my scarf. Night had already blanketed the campus, and since it was a weekday the sidewalks were empty. I rounded the corner that lead to the back entrance and swiped my student ID card. When it unlatched, I slipped inside and scurried up the warped wooden steps to the second floor. The steps, worn with age and use, creaked underfoot, and when I reached the top landing mellow notes of music reached my ears.

I recognized the soft melody and thought.  _ Ah, good, she’s here _ . I made my way down the hall to Aoki’s studio. 

The music was louder here, so she didn’t hear the door open, but she looked up when I entered. Her hair was pushed back out of her round face with bobby pins, making it stick up haphazardly. It was a far cry from her usual, perfectly put-together appearance, but I loved seeing her when she was working. Now, she was in the center of the room, a paint-smeared apron covering the ratty shirt and jeans she wore when she was working on a big project. She wiped a hand on her thigh and fished her phone from her pocket.

The volume dropped, and she greeted me in mild surprise, “Oh, Koushi, hi.”

“Aoki,” I exhaled in a long breath and collapsed onto the stool she sometimes used for her models. “Are you terribly busy?”

She smiled at me, her expression warm and tender, and said, “I’m never too busy for you,” she glanced up at her canvas. “I do have a groove going, though, do mind if I work while you talk?” I nodded, grateful that she wasn’t too pressed for time. Aoki turned off the music and turned her back to me, returning to her painting. It was probably five feet tall and even longer across, and in the early stages of creation. “You look flustered.”

I laughed, half out of surprise, “I  _ feel _ flustered. I just pulled a really awful move— I dumped Terushima only minutes after we finished hooking up.”

Aoki glanced at me over her shoulder, her perfect brows lifting in curiosity. “Why?” then she pursed her lips and added, “No, I know why. But why are you upset?”

“You’re not surprised?” I asked, hanging my head, “I thought for sure you’d be surprised about me ditching her.  _ At least _ be surprised about my behavior? So I don’t feel so bad?”

She shrugged as she contemplated her pallet, one long, wide-tipped brush in hand. “Haru actually owes me some money, they were sure you’d only last two weeks with Terushima.”

“You were taking  _ bets _ on my love life?” I asked, indignant, “ _ Wait _ , why did they think it wouldn’t last very long?”

These questions earned me a longsuffering look, and she said, “Haru thought that the only reason you decided to hook up with someone was because you saw Daichi over break.  _ Then _ , they thought that you would come to your senses after Daichi came over that first time.”

My jaw dropped, and I stared at her. She had resumed painting and was patiently waiting for me to get my act together. “What does my shitty behavior towards Terushima have to do with Daichi? I’m not always this awful.”  _ This really is outside of the ordinary for me, even if you won’t validate me. But if I wanted validation, I’d have to go see Ryota. _

“Oh, Suga,” she sighed, and I knew I was being  _ really  _ dumb. Aoki only ever called me Suga when I was being particularly dense. “We tried to talk to you,” the corners of her eyes crinkled in a smile I couldn’t completely see, “I’m not saying that they’re romantic, but you obviously have a lot of feelings for Daichi still. For once, the only person in the room who can’t read the situation is you, and not Jiri.”

I wanted to laugh at the joke, but I was feeling  _ too much _ for to do so. “I don’t— there’s no—”

She waved me off and set her brush down. After absently smoothing out an excess teardrop of paint with her finger, she turned to me and said, “This might be a long shot, but did you hear from or see Daichi before you decided to end things? Because the last time we talked, you said you were content keeping things with Terushima as they were.”

“Ah,” I balked, then tentatively admitted, “My phone rang while I was getting dressed—” Aoki arched one perfect brow and waited as I said, “And Terushima answered it without my permission.”

“Okay,” she said, obviously dissatisfied, “And who called?”

I ran a hand over my face. “Daichi.”

She threw her hands in the air and looked satisfied, “What’d I say?”

Groaning, I said, “Okay! Okay, you were right. I obviously have some baggage, so I’ll work on it.”

“You said that before,” she reminded me, “But what did she say, when she called?”

To escape Aoki’s intent gaze, I slid my eyes from hers and to her painting. I hadn’t looked too closely at it before, but in its unfinished state I could make out the shadowed form of a person. They filled the canvas, and I was curious about what it would be when it was complete. “She wanted to make plans.”

“Good,” Aoki followed my eyes back to her painting and she considered it with her hands on her hips. Her hair stuck up in all directions from her face, and I wanted to squeeze her for being so perfect and considerate, “I have a preview show coming up for my senior exhibit, I want you to come, and I want for you to bring her.”

Blinking, I said, “It’s in a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah, just, think about it,” she added, sensing my hesitation. “In the meantime, aren’t you burning up? Take off your jacket and sit for me.”

“Oh!” I loved modeling for Aoki because she had a way of making me fall in love with my body and myself. “Wait— I have to call her back, I said I would,” I explained, feeling my cheeks go pink.

She looked at me levelly, her expression neutral. “Perfect, you can invite her, then.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that. I’ll tentatively ask her to meet, but I’ll decide on your exhibit later.”

Aoki shrugged noncommittally and turned around while I dug my phone out of my back pocket. She grabbed her own to shut off the music completely.

Feeling exposed, I walked to the hallway and went through my call logs. After taking a long, deep breath, I pressed Daichi’s name and let the phone ring, noticing that it was closer to eight than I would have liked.

She answered on the first ring, and sounded relieved when she greeted me.

“Hi,” I said, suddenly breathless, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know you’re about to go into your meeting, but are you free the week after next, maybe?”

“Sure,” she said quickly, “Sorry for earlier, for, ah— interrupting,” she sounded really uncomfortable.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” I reassured her quickly. “My schedule might change, so I’ll get in touch with you again next week.”

“Great!” for a second, the sound of her enthusiastic agreement sent me back to our Karasuno days. “Ah, I’ve got to run, thanks for calling me back.”

“Yeah, later,” I hung up and let my heart beat slow before I went back to the studio. “Okay!” I announced, shrugging out of my coat finally. “How do you want me?” I held my arms out to her, still feeling disheveled from earlier, but now eager to do something different now that my mood had improved.

“Hmm,” her fingers played on the hem of her apron, and she said, “How would you feel about posing almost-nude?” she grabbed my jacket from where I had tossed it aside, “I kind of want you to use this to cover up? You’re such a wintery soul, I want to see if I can get that on paper.”

I nodded, excited. I had posed nude and semi-nude for Aoki on more than one occasion. She was respectful, courteous, and endlessly professional, and the sketches she had done of me so far had been stunning. A vain part of me craved having another, and the restless part of me was eager to pose and relax into her music and flow. I shimmied out of my clothes, grateful to shed them after my awful afternoon, and let her direct me to a seat. She guided me into a pose, using gentle, paint-spattered hands to tilt my chin or dip my shoulder. 

I closed my eyes and exhaled when she said, “There, perfect,” and let the sounds of her pencil on paper guide me back to myself. She didn’t mention Daichi again.


	7. Collisions at Last

When I walked into the room for the bi-weekly Alliance meeting, a pair of kind, deep, dark brown eyes met mine and rooted me to the spot. Blood rushed in my ears, and time seemed to stop around me as that solid gaze pulled me inwards.

“Suga!” Hinata’s clear voice snapped me out of my daze, and I slid my eyes to look at her. She was sitting between Kageyama and Daichi, looking as comfortable and easily confident as ever. They were sitting on a worn, comfortable couch with a rainbow quilt draped over the back, and they were sinking so far into it they were all practically on top of each other. Kageyama leaned to one side, surveying the room with careful disinterest, and while I carefully avoided looking at her, I could feel Daichi’s eyes on me.

People were still trickling into the room, which was adjacent to the campus LGBTQIA+ center. I had barely escaped a mountain of last minute grading and was looking forward to having a break. Ryota was supposed to join me, but was running a few minutes late due to a study group, and the others were busy for one reason or another.

I’d been lax in my attendance this semester, mostly due to my (failed) romance with Terushima. While I was seeing her, we would skip the meetings in favor of hooking up, and since I had cut contact I’d been avoiding the center in order to avoid her. Today, however, I’d received incessant text reminders from Hinata, so I dragged myself here for her.  _ And this must by why _ , I thought, finally turning back to look at Daichi. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans, blue flannel with the sleeves rolled up past her forearms, and a pair of worn, practical leather boots with red laces. Her shoulder length hair was partially tied back, and I noticed that there were subtle layers giving it a cool tilt I hadn’t seen before. That same grey scarf was looped around her neck, she was staring back at me with an inscrutable expression. I realized too late that I was supposed to call her this week to finalize our plans to meet.

Instead of acting like a normal human being, like I should have, I turned around and left without saying a word.

I just, turned on one foot and started making my way back to my house, thinking over and over,  _ Why am I such a wreck? _

I heard Hinata call my name, sounding confused and maybe a little hurt, but I kept walking. I decided I could make it up to her at the next one.

_ The chance of seeing Terushima was bad enough, what the hell is Daichi doing there? Everything was fine before I saw her. _

I had made zero progress in unpacking my feelings about her. Anger, resentment, heartbreak, longing, they were all threads that all lead back to her. They were tangled, messy, painful, and impossible to trace because of how deeply they were entrenched in my heart. It was such a disaster that avoiding her was still the best course of action. I made myself scarce when she was over to study with Jiri, and I was endlessly “busy” the few times she texted me.

And despite Aoki’s frequent pressing, I hadn’t invited Daichi to her showing yet. There were all sorts of reasons I used as excuses. I told myself that I wasn’t ready to face her, or to bring her into my bubble in that way, but I think I didn’t  _ want _ to be ready. Frustration coiled and pushed at the inside of my skin, and I dropped my head. My hair fell around my face, giving me an excuse to look as brooding as I felt.

“Suga!”

My dour mood was broken almost as soon as it had settled in, and I almost tripped at the sound of Daichi calling my name. I kept walking, though, cruising past a couple of club rooms and a handful of study cubicles. I had already committed to being an asshole by leaving, might as well see it through until I was safely in my own home.

The hallway was empty save for us, and she caught up to me quickly, saying, “Wait, wait,” as she fell into step on my right. “Where are you going?” 

I snuck a glance over, not trusting myself to give her my full attention. She had tugged her coat on, and her scarf had come unlooped and hung loose from her neck. Her expression was warm with concern, and I felt myself grow flustered. “I’m headed home, I realized that I forgot to do something.”

Daichi sighed, and I knew that she saw right through me. I wondered if she would give me a pass, this time. She had kept her polite distance so far, so I was hopeful.

“Hinata told me that she’s been pestering you all day to attend.”

It seemed I would not be so lucky. I pushed open the door to the stairwell, intending to use the side exit. “Did she?”

I felt, rather than saw, the irritated look she sent me, “I’m guessing that she didn’t tell you I would be there.” It was a statement, and her voice was steady and unassuming. The sounds of our footsteps filled the hollow space.

“Right.”

“She was really looking forward to seeing you tonight,” she chastised, and her tone reminded me vaguely of sportier days. When I didn’t answer, she said “O-okay,” drawing out the syllables before she planted herself squarely in front of me. “I was going to wait until we were able to meet for real, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

I side stepped around her and exited the stairwell, quickly turning the corner to push through the door and into the winter air. She followed close behind, catching the door as I let it fall shut behind me. I don’t know why I couldn’t face her, but it felt like my body was moving of its own accord. I kept my eyes trained ahead and told myself that I would be home soon.

“Suga, please.”

I faltered, then slowly turned to her, incredulous and wary. 

Daichi took a deep breath, and said, “I know I’ve said this before, but I really want you to know that I’m sorry.”

I blinked at her, feeling my eyes go wide,  _ Before? _

She continued when I didn’t respond, “Back then, at graduation,” she cleared her throat, then said with a painfully familiar resolve, “I was really awful to you. And I understand why you’ve been avoiding me. I wish I could say it was because I was just a dumb kid, but I still knew better.” Her lips were set in a thin line, and she said, “You were my best friend, and I wish I could have been there for you when you came out to me.”

“Wait,” I breathed, staring at her, “You said this before?”

This earned me a puzzled look, and her resolve seemed to flicker for the briefest moment. “I called you, but you didn’t answer. I left a message. Then I thought we could have talked before we left for school, but…” her voice trailed away, leaving me to remember.

_ But I hadn’t wanted any part of that, and I thought your invitations were you trying to ignore what happened _ . “I never got a message.”  _ Did I? _ I couldn’t remember. I vaguely recalled ignoring her first attempt at calling.

Relief, amusement, and horror all struggled to win Daichi’s expression, but bemused alarm won out, “You didn’t?”

“Nope.” I wasn’t positive about this, but I knew I hadn’t ever heard her apologize, at least.

A startled laugh escaped her, and she looked up at the sky “Oh, so all this time,” she laughed again. “Wow, I fucked up.”

I watched, curiosity keeping me in place. I felt the lilt of a chilly breeze, hinting at snowfall. Winter silence hung between us, and my eyes searched her face as hers searched the sky.

Finally, she shook her head, a grin playing on her lips. She lifted her eyes to me, and in the ugly yellow of the campus streetlights said, “Suga, I’m so sorry. You deserved so much better from me. And in every moment since then, I’ve let you down.” She fixed her scarf and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Her shoulders were hunched, and she trained her eyes on me seriously. “I should have tried harder to make amends. When I saw you that night at the convenience store, I even thought, ‘This is my chance’, but I still chickened out.”

Bewildered, I let her talk. My lack of reply didn’t seem to bother her, if anything, she seized the opportunity to keep speaking authentically.

“And running into you at your house, or at the coffee shop. I could have said something then, and I didn’t. So I’m sorry about that, too.” She took a careful step towards me, “I wanted to respect your space, and I tried, I really did. Tonight,” she sighed and looked at the ground between our feet, “Well. When you told me about Hinata and Kageyama I got in touch with them. They suggested coming, and I knew that if  _ you _ knew I would be here, you wouldn’t come.”

“So you ambushed me?” I said, finding my voice at last.

“Partially,” she admitted, her shoulders slumping. “There’s a lot more I could say—”

“So say it,” I demanded, even though I felt like I didn’t have the right.

“Okay.” She didn’t miss a beat, she just agreed. Something uncomfortable stirred in my chest, but I focused on her words instead. “100% honesty,” she declared. “I didn’t have to transfer here, but I needed to see you. It’s true that my advisor and my project came over to this university, and it’s true that I was able to transfer relatively easy. But when my professor told me that she was coming here, the first thing I thought about was you.” She watched my face, and I tried to keep my expression blank. “I was so relieved when you told me you were still here. I don’t know what I would have done,” she shook her head again. “And, all I want is to get to know you again, but I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

I squinted, reading her expression. “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, her eyebrows lifting as if the answer were obvious. “Because—”

“No, wait.” I closed my eyes, my heart aching. I wasn’t sure about what was coming next, but I knew it would be too much. “I can’t. I don’t want to reconnect.”

I didn’t hear Daichi move or breathe for a full beat. When I opened my eyes, she was looking at me, a strong frown playing on her face. The shadows cast by the streetlight brought out the determined set of her features, casting warm panes of light across her cheeks. She looked like she really,  _ really _ wanted to answer me. Finally, after letting out a defeated breath, she replied, “I understand.” She shifted as if to leave, then paused, “If you change your mind—” she shrugged, as if she thought her own words were worthless, “I’ll be here for you.”

And then she left, walking past me with her back straight, to go back into the building. I didn’t move for a little while, sighing into the night until my fingertips began to feel cold.

When I got home, I walked like a zombie to my bed and collapsed onto the comforter. Jiri and Haru both poked their heads into my room, having seen my weird entrance from the livingroom. Haru looked like they were fully settled in for the night, with a blanket tucked around their shoulders and a cup of tea in one hand. They leaned casually against my doorframe, their dark eyes reading my appearance.

“What’s up with  _ you _ ?” Jiri asked, coming in to plop onto the bed unceremoniously next to me.

“Daichi tried to apologize after I confessed, but I think I deleted the message without listening to it.” I said into my pillow, now certain of my blunder, “And then I forgot about it.”

I heard Jiri’s sharp intake of breath, “ _ Yikes _ .”

“And you just remembered?” Haru prompted.

“She apologized to me again, tonight, and brought it up.”

There was a pause, then, “And?”

“I kind of told her I didn’t want to hear it.”

“You  _ what _ ?” Haru yelled, stomping into my room to tower over my bed. “ _ Why?” _

I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned, “I don’t know, I don’t know. I just can’t yet, she seemed way to sincere and serious.”

“What is wrong with you? You were just saying like last month that you needed an apology from her! She seemed  _ too sincere _ ?”

I thought about the way the gross light had brought out the brown glow of her skin, the way her sigh had warmed the cold air, and the intent way she had looked at me when she had been speaking. Lastly, the things she said skipped in my head as if they were on repeat. “Yes,  _ way _ too genuine.”

“Koushi, that’s not possible, not for you,” Haru said flatly.

“What did she say?”

Tilting my head so I could breathe through the pillow and the heavy curtain of my hair, I told them, “She said she wanted to get to know me again. And that she’d be here for me if I changed my mind.”

“Oh my god,” Jiri said, thoroughly exasperated. “Are you torturing yourself on purpose?”

“Jiri,” Haru’s voice was a warning, but they said, “But she’s right. What  _ are _ you doing? First you did that thing with Terushima, when you never do things like that, and now you’re shitting all over Daichi’s apology.”

“I don’t know,” I whined again. But I kind of did know. I was avoiding responsibility, and I was avoiding being vulnerable. I’d never been more vulnerable than in that moment when I came out and confessed to her, and it had blown up in my face. All of my resistence went back to that. I had worked her into a mental villain, and coming to terms with the fact that she was still the reliable, comforting human she was when we were younger… it was far easier for me to hold onto my pain.

Making an ugly noise, Jiri reached up and pushed my head back into the pillow, “Get it together, Sugawara!”

“Call her,” Haru said. “We’re sick of you being all weird about Daichi. Work it out,  _ now _ .”

Haru rarely, if ever, told me what to do. But I knew they were right. I had been super weird about Daichi. Even with the stuff between us, I should be able to act like a normal adult about it. But I haven’t been able to, not for a single second. I couldn’t even be in the same room as her, which is a Koushi Sugawara first. “Fine,” I relented. Without getting up, I pawed at myself until I had my phone in hand. I tapped through it and dialed Daichi’s number before I lost my resolve, and before my friends left and I would have no one to be accountable to.

“Sugawara?” I grimaced at the sound of my name, remembering all the ways in which I had pushed her away since that night at the convenience store.

I cleared my throat, “Daichi, I, uh,” I pushed my hair back and looked to my friends, who were staring at me, hard. “I’m sorry about earlier.” I glanced at the clock on my desk and winced, “And for interrupting the Alliance meeting. Can I make it up to you?”

“Of course,” she breathed, her voice tentative with disbelief. Her tone said,  _ Already? _

“Um, you know my roommate Aoki? She’s doing an art showing next week. Do you want to go with me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay.”

We both stayed on the phone for a moment, not saying anything.

I cleared my throat again, awkwardly, “I-I’ll see you then.”

“Alright, bye.”

I hung up and tossed my phone on the bed beside me. Haru joined the two of us on the bed and set their mug on my bedside table. They collapsed against me, swamping me with contact.

“You’re going to  _ actually _ have to talk to her eventually, you know,” Haru said, burying their face in my shoulder. I felt their hand come up to my shoulder, where they rested it comfortingly.

Sighing, I replied, “I know.”

“What are you going to wear?” Jiri piped, asking the important questions, as usual.

“Gah, I don’t know,” I said, exasperated. I wondered briefly what Daichi would wear, remembering the way her flannel had been rolled up to exposed the smooth, tan skin of her forearms and the way it had been unbuttoned at her throat. I shuddered, thinking,  _ Pretty straight girls.  _


	8. Winter

Under the careful eyes of Haru, Jiri, and Ryota, I had settled on wearing a pair of clingy black high-waisted jeans, rolled up at the ankles, and a deep maroon knit sweater with a collared shirt underneath. The shirt was a cream button up with a simple vintage floral pattern, and fit nicely with the sweater. I also wore black booties and dark grey wool socks, and felt thoroughly overdressed for the occasion.

“Are you sure?” I asked, turning in the full length mirror to look at myself. The maroon and the black pants gave me a dark, edgy look that seriously contrasted with my pale hair. I wore it down and messy, and just looking at it made my fingers itch to fix it. Jiri had suggested the style, so I left it alone, instead choosing to smooth the collar for the upteenth time.

“Yes, it’s perfect,” Haru said, and I mentally submitted. Besides Aoki, Haru had the coolest sense in fashion. They tilted their head, considering my face. “I think the no makeup look works best for you.”

I shrugged, studying my face in the mirror. I rarely wore makeup, and that plus the outfit would have been far too intense for me. I’d never worn makeup in highschool, and only did more than the basics for special occasions. I relaxed into the outfit and straightened my sweater. 

“But, a little lipstick—” Jiri started.

I quickly shook my head and nervously began smoothing my hair into place, forgetting the messy styling and wrecking it. “I can go for some eyeliner, but you know lipstick is too bold for me.” I used my fingers to part the tangles and ease my natural wave back into place. I didn’t have time to make them any more defined, so it did have a more relaxed look than my usual style.

She huffed, as if personally offended, but pawed through the makeup bag I had brought from my room. “Black? Or brown?”

“Brown,” Haru and I said in unison.

I glanced at Ryota in the mirror, who had been watching me quietly from the doorway, since the bathroom was too cramped for all of us. “What do you think?”

“I think you seem nervous.” He said plainly, “And your hair looks better neater. You’re not that messy of a gal.”

“Next time I won’t even bother,” Jiri grumbled, handing me the liner. She went back to pawing through the makeup bag, considering eyeshadow palettes and other odds and ends as she came across them.

“I appreciate your effort,” I said genuinely, pulling the corner of my left eye to the side so that I could apply a steady line to my upper lid. “Aren’t all of you going to get dolled up, too?”

“Yeah, we’re all going to walk over together after you go meet Daichi,” Haru said, their tone light but meaningful.

Sighing, I clamped down on the butterflies in my stomach and went to line my other eye. Once I was finished, I blinked at my reflection, feeling satisfied and pretty. “Speaking of which, what time is it? I should probably get going.”

Ryota glanced at his phone, “Almost six-thirty.”

“Yikes,” I said, tossing my eyeliner back to Jiri to put away. I was meeting Daichi near campus to walk to the venue together. Aoki’s exhibit was at one of the small campus galleries, which was sort of out of the way. It would have been difficult to give directions, so I had suggested walking together. Giving myself one last glance, I announced, “Okay, leaving. See you all there.”

Haru and Ryota made room for me to pass, each of them giving me a meaningful look. I decided to ignore them, and went to grab my extra layers and a brown faux-leather purse from my room. As I made my way to the door, I looped a pale peach infinity scarf around my neck and tugged a knit winter hand onto my head. When I stepped outside, it was already snowing.

I walked quickly to campus, cutting through the main building as a shortcut. The blast of warm air that greeted me when I walked through the sliding doors sent a shiver down my spine. I shook off the cold, feeling pin pricks of water from melting snowflakes on my cheeks. While I wanted to take my time, but couldn’t because I would be late for both meeting Daichi and the beginning of Aoki’s showing. Earlier that day, I had decided that I’ve been flakey and shitty enough lately, and needed to get my act together. 

When I arrived, breathless, to the campus shuttle stop we agreed was a good midway between our apartments, I was struck by the sight of her. She was standing to the side, her hands stuffed into the pockets of a black, waist-length wool jacket, the snow falling in the silence on and around her. Her hair was down and obscured part of her face because of the low set of her hat. She didn’t see me at first, so I watched her study the ground as crystalline snow collected in her dark hair. She slipped her phone out of her pocket to check the time, and I took that as my cue to begin trotting up to her.

“Hey-” I started, catching her attention. I crossed the street, but right when I began to step up onto the curb to join her, my foot slipped on a thin smear of ice. I stumbled, and threw my hands out to catch myself as I pitched forward towards the sidewalk. As I flailed, she took a quick step forward, catching my arms before I could tumble over completely. I grabbed her instinctively, pulling myself towards her as if she were a lifeline. When my feet hit concrete again, I was doubled over, holding onto her for support as she supported my elbows and forearms. I held onto her for an extra second as my heartbeat slowed, and I sheepishly looked up at her. “Hi,” I said, “Sorry.”

Her face wore a look of open concern, and she kept her hands on my arms, holding me steady. The material of her jacket was cold and rough under my bare hands. “Hi, are you okay?”

“Um, yeah,” I said, straightening up. I pulled my hands away from her as if I had been burned, and I watched a thoughtful look cross her features. Embarrassed, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and asked if she had been waiting for very long.

“Not really,” she said, giving me an easy smile. “I’m still getting used to the campus, so it takes me a little while to get around.”

I felt vaguely guilty, because before the semester had started I’d agreed to show her around. “Well, you would have definitely gotten lost trying to find the gallery on your own then,” I tried to keep my tone light and teasing, but even to me, it sounded forced.

Daichi rolled with it though, grinning as she gestured forward, “Lead the way, because I’m flying blind here.”

I nodded, “It’s not too far, it’s just in a weird spot.” I glanced at the sidewalk for more ice, then began to walk us down the street, leading us deeper into the campus.

At first, conversation was stilted and awkward, like it was that night at the convenience store. We talked a little about what we did that day, and then our individual weeks. She was careful to listen and seemed almost hesitant to ask questions, at first, as if she didn’t know what was safe to talk about with me. In the moment, it was a painful reminder of how far we had drifted from the best friends we had been, but the feeling began to fade the closer we got to the venue. It wasn’t until we started talking about the Alliance club, its upcoming activities, and strong snack game that the conversation really began to flow. 

“That’s actually how I met Aoki,” I said, once we’d agreed that the frequent pizza was one of the club’s finer qualities, “And Haru and Ryota, too. We all became friends through the Alliance.”

“What about Jiri?”

Smiling, I said, “We were freshman year roommates, and when we all moved in together last year we used to joke that she was the token straight friend.” Realizing a little too late that the conversation might be drifting into territory that was too gay, I snuck a glance at her face.

She seemed unphased, and actually laughed at my joke. “You mean, like the opposite of being the token gay friend?”

Surprised and very pleased, I said, “Y-yeah, exactly.”

“That’s pretty good, Suga,” she said appreciatively, giving me another of those too-familiar, easy smiles. Her eyes threatened to disappear into her grin, which was one of the things I used to like best about her. 

A wave of aching nostalgia swept through me, and I tried to change the subject. “But, Aoki is the token artistic friend. The rest of us are in STEM fields.”

Daichi nodded, “Jiri mentioned that your house is pretty sciencey. But, you used to draw a lot, too, have you taken any art classes?”

I shrugged noncommittally, “Not really, got kind of busy, since I was trying to graduate a year early.”

Her fine eyebrows lifted in surprise, and I could feel her dark eyes searching my profile, “You were?”

I shrugged again, ducking my head to watch the sidewalk and hide my face behind my hair, “It’ll end up only being a semester early, now. I was trying to cut down on my overall time spent in school, since I’ll be going to medical school, too.”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I’m impressed, Suga, you must have been working pretty hard.” On the surface, her voice was supportive, but there was something else there I couldn’t parse out.

Before I could go much more into it, we arrived at the venue entrance. It was in a red-bricked building and crawling with so much ivy the windows were all but covered. The door, made of heavy wood and painted a faded cherry red, was set back into the wall. It was easy to find when you knew where to look, but was easy to miss at first glance, especially in the dark. There was a boxy sandwich board out front with the name of Aoki’s exhibit written in easy to read chalk lettering.

“‘Coming Undone, to Completion,’” Daichi read, glancing at my face after to confirm we were in the right place. 

I nodded to her, and opened the door, swinging it out so that she could enter first. 

“You’re right,” she said, pulling off her hat, “I would have never found this.”

I chuckled and guided her to the coat stand to the side, “This building was apparently full of classrooms way back, but people had such a hard time finding it that the campus just turned it into student space. Sometimes other groups will have plays and stuff in here.”

“And you said Aoki is presenting work alone tonight?” Daichi asked, shrugging out of her coat.

“Yeah, and tonight is the first night. She’s doing a preview of what she wants to present at her final showing, which happens at the end of the year. She said she’s been having a hard time picking which direction to go, so she wants to see people’s reactions before she keeps going.”

As I was shrugging out of my layers, I noticed that Daichi was wearing a pair of dark, loose-fitting slacks, a crisp mandarin-collared white shirt and a stormy grey vest. The shirt, untucked, brought out the breadth of shoulders, and her slacks brought out the athletic set of her hips and legs. A soft, dark grey blazer brought the outfit together, and she had paired it with her red-laced brown leather boots. The outfit was strangely dapper, and unlike anything I had ever seen her wear before. I looked away before she could catch me staring, and began feeling very much like I was in over my head.

I hung my things and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, feeling fidgety. I could hear the din of the exhibit starting in the other room, and as Daichi finished putting her coat on a hook the door behind us opened. The burst of cold air made me shudder, and when I glanced away from the people entering, I found Daichi’s dark, intense gaze on my face.

Feeling a bit of a blush warming my cheeks, I said, “Ready?”

At once, her expression was replaced by something warmer, and she nodded.

We walked through the door, and I spotted two things at once: the refreshment table, laden with cheese and wine, and Aoki, standing in the center of the room. She looked flawless, wearing a square-necked, floor length black dress with an open back. Her hair was done in her signature textured bob, and she stood stock-still in the center of the room, watching people as they arrived. When she saw Daichi and I walk in, her focus melted away into a big, welcoming smile. 

She glided over to us, and I swept her up in a hug, “You’re stunning,” I told her, “No one is even going to be able to look at your art.”

Laughing, she pulled back, keeping me in a loose embrace, “You’re far more eye catching, thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, letting her go.

She took a step back and looked to Daichi, and suddenly I couldn’t remember how much interaction they’ve had. I was about to clear my throat and make an introduction, but Aoki beat me too it, “Hi, Daichi, how are you?”

She smiled as she spoke, and I felt Daichi relax next to me, “I’m well, Aoki. Congratulations on your preview. Suga said that you’re talented, and at first glance I think she undersold you.”

Aoki grinned, accepting the compliment gracefully before sending me a look I didn’t want to deal with, “Well please, enjoy some refreshments and some art,” she paused, then said, “There are a few pieces on the back wall that I’d like for you to see. Make sure you don’t miss them.”

“Is there any order to viewing?” I asked eagerly.

“Not particularly, the series of works on the largest wall are the namesake of the preview, but those on the back wall are the ones I am most pleased with.”

Someone behind me said Aoki’s name, and her attention shifted past me. I touched her gently on the arm and scooted past her, letting her greet her next guests. 

Daichi followed me, and I edged over to the refreshments, where I began to pour two glasses of wine. “Oh,” I said, with sudden realization. I looked up to Daichi questioningly, “You drink, right?”

She smiled, her hand in one pocket, “Yes, I would like a glass.”

I passed her one silently, then we exchanged a wordless look, deciding without communicating to start looking. 

We began near the entrance, and slowly began to make our way back to the larger wall, which was stark white and contrasted sharply with the exposed brick lining the rest of the room. The first few works were painted versions of candid photos of other people, most of whom I didn’t recognize. Sipping our wine, we chattered about what we liked, and what we liked a lot, complimenting on Aoki on her use of color and her ability to capture her subjects on canvas.

We made our way through several larger abstract pieces before reaching the center, where five towering panels of canvas dwarfed the wall. I recognized one from the night she had drawn me, that figure was the first in a series. The form was shadowed and decidedly feminine, the curves of her hips backlit by an icy white glow. I took a step back, drinking in the wall, and Daichi, who had been saying something before we came over, let her sentence fade away before it was complete. 

There was a placard mounted on the wall, titled “Coming Undone, to Completion,” and explained that the five panels on the walls were the expression of Aoki’s exploration of her true gender, which was different from what she was assigned at birth. Each panel was described as outlining a phase in her realization, from feeling the shadow of the woman she was to be to breaking out of the perceptions and expectations of others. The last panel showed her, complete, and completely naked, almost blending into the pale peach of the background. In the painting, her eyes were closed, eyes tilted back, her slender body relaxed as she began to fall into line with herself.

As I read, looking up at the paintings between paragraph, I smiled, feeling tears welling to the surface of my eyes. Aoki rarely spoke of her transition, but had mentioned that the moments leading up to her decision to fully transition were painful and tumultuous. At the bottom of the placard were statistics about violence against transgendered folks, particularly against transgendered people of color, and a QR code that took you to a website with a list of LGBTQIA+ resources.

After contemplating the series for a moment, I broke away, suddenly curious about Daichi’s reaction. Her eyes scanned each canvas individually, drinking in the details slowly and methodically. She had her arms crossed, her cup of wine resting in the crook of one elbow. She was leaning back on the heels of her feet in front of another placard, her head tilted in thought.

She glanced at me, feeling my eyes on her no doubt, and smiled. Daichi gestured to the wall, “This is really spectacular. It seems like it would be really painful to put this experience on display like this.”

I stared at her, wondering when she had grown up. I couldn’t find my voice for a moment, then said, “She never really talks about her transition,” and tried to gauge her reaction, wanting to confirm that she knew what the pieces were saying.

But like when I outed Hinata and Kageyama, she didn’t flinch at the new information. She said, “I really like this, she’s incredible.”

Mutely, I nodded, then detached myself from the weird emotional vertigo I was experiencing and gestured towards the back wall. “Shall we?” I asked, before leading the way to where Aoki’s favorites were displayed.

There was a constructed hallway leading to the back wall, it was narrow, and I could almost feel Daichi’s breath on my hair when we walked down it. The room was beginning to feel noisier, and I was happy to have seen the biggest parts of the exhibit already.

At the end of the short hallway, the room widened, and there were four portraits, each at least three feet tall. String lights lined the ceiling, and they pulsed gently, casting moving shadows around the little room. My breath caught in my throat as I began to take them in, there was one painting for each of us living with Aoki and they were stunning.

Jiri, painted in yellows and greens, had her head tilted back, her mouth opened in laughter. From the bright strokes, I could hear her laugh, brilliant and contagious. The wood plaque above her head was wreathed in sunflowers and gold paint:  _ Summer. _

Haru, stood, gazing from their frame, dwarfed in a blanket. Their expression, one I had seen a hundred thousand times, was one of knowing amusement. Crimson maple leaves dotted the frame, bursting into flames around the word  _ Autumn. _

And then there was me, sitting on a stool, my long hair trailing down my back as I pressed the scratchy wool of my jacket to my bare chest. Aoki had done the entire canvas in a muted, wintery grey blue. My hair almost seemed to blend in, and the expression on my face was solemn, making me think of the silence right before snowfall.  _ Winter. You’re such a winter, _ she’d said.

Finally, Ryota filled the last canvas, his body bare and exposed directly to the viewer. He looked dewy and sensual, his piercing gaze and parted lips evoking images of wide, rushing rivers. Aoki had painted him in a flower crown and nothing else, and above his canvas, braided willow branches circled  _ Spring. _

I sighed, taking in the whole tableau, then turned, finding Daichi’s eyes on me again. “Isn’t this amazing?” I asked, breathless.

She looked at me for a long moment, another unreadable look on her face, then asked, “What were you thinking about? When you were sitting for this, what were you thinking?”

Startled, I turned my attention back to my season. Aoki had asked me to sit right after I had called Daichi, so I looked back to her. She had pushed her hair away from her face, and I found myself pulled into her features. Her dark eyes, curious and deep, were searching. Her mouth was set in a strong line, and she tilted her head, exposing the strong line of her jaw. I drank in her appearance again, and took a chance, “You.”


	9. Mess is Mine

I stared at Suga, letting her answer settle into my brain before I responded. There was a light blush scattered over the soft planes of her cheeks, and her cedar-brown eyes turned back to her portrait when I didn’t answer right away. She looked shy and unsure, her eyes downturned, and I thought about what I should say next. I wasn’t sure, because I’d spent the entire evening trying to be careful about how much I spoke. It wasn’t as difficult as I had imagined it would be, but only because I’d occupied myself by watching her expression change with each passing piece. 

The entire gallery had been stunning, but after so long, being next to Suga pulled in every ounce of my attention. The painting of her,  _ Winter _ , had all but knocked me on my ass. And seeing her face light up in surprise and delight at the representation of her and her friends had been a vice grip on my heart. I looked down into my cup, starting at the final sip of cabernet sauvignon as if it could tell me all the things I need to do.

Or all the things I should have done. 

I sighed, and saw Suga notice. She tilted her head back to me, her long, perfect hair shifting under the warm glow of the string lights. She pursed her lips, looking troubled and questioning. I broke eye contact, “Me, huh?” I asked, finally.

Her shoulders stiffened, “Yeah, Aoki did this sketch of me after that time you called me. You know, when someone else answered my phone.”

I nodded, because I knew. It was  _ the _ phone call. Tapping my thumb on my glass, I said, “How is Terushima?” 

“Wouldn’t know,” she said airily, shrugging as if she didn’t care.

_ Don’t get your hopes up _ , I reminded myself. It had been my mantra since the summer before freshman year of college. It had started with:  _ Don’t get your hopes up. She won’t call you back. _

And from there, it had gone something like:

_ Don’t get your hopes up. She doesn’t want anything to do with you. _

_ Don’t get your hopes up. She’s not home. _

_ Don’t get your hopes up. She won’t want to see you. _

_ Don’t get your hopes up. She doesn’t want to reconnect. _

But now there was another voice in my head, pushing me in the opposite direction.

_ She called you back this time. She invited you out. She wants you to know her. _

“Did you break up?” I asked, trying to sound neutral.

A dark look passed over her face, and said, “Kind of. We were never really dating, but— it doesn’t matter. We’re not together.”

“Suga.”

She turned away from the series of paintings, and I opened my mouth to say something more, but someone else entering the room made me swallow my words. I glanced away, feeling uncertain in that moment.

“What is it?”

“Can we talk outside?”

She trained her eyes on me, and I knew she was trying to read my mind. I desperately hoped she had lost that talent, at least for now. After a long look, she replied, “Sure.”

“We can stay and look some more, it doesn’t have to be right now.”

She glanced at her cup, which was also empty, and said, “It’s alright, we’ve seen everything,” and began to lead the way out after giving me a strange look.

I glanced over my shoulder at the painting of her, letting the curve of her back, the curl of her moonlit hair, and the solemn expression on her fair features burn itself into my memory. Then I followed behind her, noticing how she adjusted the hem of her sweater and the collar of her shirt without missing a graceful step.

We dropped our cups at the table and waved at her other housemates, who were talking with Aoki. They didn’t stop us, and Jiri gave me a little wink as we passed. I felt a little surge of gratitude towards my classmate, both for being a listening ear over the course of the semester and and for being an insider for me. I’d learned, through Jiri, that Suga had built for herself a haven out of her house, and the five of them were close-knit and caring. I’d learned that they were all there for her in the ways I had failed to be.

The main room was beginning to feel cramped, and I glanced at my phone. It was just about an hour into the showing, with two to go. Suga and I hadn’t talked about what we wanted to do after, if anything, but I figured I would be leaving shortly after our conversation. I swallowed the lump in my throat, hoping that it would go well.

“Should I grab my coat?” she asked, pausing at the rack.

I studied the wall, which was drowning under the weight of the winter layers. “Uh, sure.”

The air between us grew thick and unsure, the way it had been when we met up earlier that night. I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face to make room for my hat. 

I tugged on my coat and took a deep breath before I opened the door to the outside, treating my entrance into the harsh night air the same I would jumping into a cold pool. Suga drifted out behind me, silent, and gestured to the right. 

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked, sounding guarded.

I blew a long stream of air through my lips and looked around. “Stop me any time.”

She nodded, looking concerned, and sat on a brick ledge. There was a garden behind her, and we were removed from the gallery-goers and the main path. It was quiet and intimate and private.

“The other night, you stopped me before I could say everything I was hoping to say, and at the time I thought it was for the best,” I started, looking away, to the night sky. The moon hung low and shadowed in the sky. “And I’m glad I had the opportunity to apologize to you again, for real. I wish I could say sorry enough to make up for the last few years of distance.”

She waited, listening, her face as smooth and stoic as it was the last time I had tried to get the words out. The silvery light of the moon and the bland glow of the exterior lights brought out her perfection, and I finally caved. 

“I know this is going to come out selfish,” I shook my head, feeling extremely egocentric and needy. “But, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then. I thought eventually, maybe, things would go back to normal between us, because I was dumb and somehow  _ more _ selfish then than I am now. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for the things I said, and I want you to know that I don’t expect anything in return from you now.

“But I want you to know, at least, that I understand,  _ really  _ understand.” I took a deep breath, and dared looking at her expression again. She didn’t believe me, but I hoped she would, because what I needed to say next was the most important part. “Because I love you. I think I might have always, and it took a long time for me to realize that I was afraid of what your feelings said about  _ me _ . That’s why I pushed you away. But now I know. Now I  _ really _ know, that I loved you then, and I love you still.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and dropped my chin, taking a step back to give her both literal and metaphorical space to process the mess I’ve created for us. “So—” I sighed, faltering, and finished lamely, “Sorry. For everything.”

She sat back, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. Silence stretched between us, and I considered leaving. 

Just when the quiet became unbearable, she said, “W-why?”

I considered her, feeling amused, because I had been asking myself the same thing for  _ three years _ . “Because it’s you.”

“But…” she looked away and crossed her feet, drawing in on herself, “It’s been so long, we don’t know each other.”

“I know,” I said, “Sort of. And I was so sure of that when I ran into you over the break, but each time I see you, I become less sure, because I’m seeing you for who you are.”

She brought a hand up to her chin, where she tugged her scarf a little higher. “What do you want?” she asked, sounding blunt and tired, and I briefly remembered watching her and that other girl at the coffee shop. Terushima had been inching into her space, pushing, even from what I could see, and I hoped that I could avoid pushing her away again.

“I just,” I sighed for the millionth time since I had ruined things, rocking back on my feet, “I just want one more evening like tonight with you. Let’s talk pizza and student clubs, or art, that’s all. I don’t need to take you out. I told you before, I want to know you.” This only started being true when I realized, far too late, how damaging my words had been. When I first came to terms with my sexualtiy, I had missed her. I didn’t have a right to want anything from Suga, and it was selfish of me to ask for this much. And yet, there was something that had made me want to ask for this. She had always been giving and understanding, but if she said no, I would leave her be. I just needed to get this out, just once.

She gave me a wary look, seeming unconvinced. “If you love me,” she said slowly, her eyes dropping, “Will that be enough? Just to know me?”

I shrugged and said honestly, “Probably not, but I hope you know that I won’t put myself in a position where I need more from you than what you can give.”

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt for a second that we were really, truly on the same page. After chasing her, but not pushing; after being ready, but not withdrawing, we were finally communicating. The relief I felt threatened to crush me.

“Okay,” she said, carefully getting to her feet. She tucked her scarf lower to her chin, and I wanted so badly for her to lift her face to look at me squarely again.

“Okay?”

And when she did, I was surprised by the focus of her gaze, “Let’s have another night like this.” She glanced at the ivy-covered walls, and I watched her eyes trace the vines up the ceiling and to the sky. “I don’t want to play any games, Daichi. I want things to be direct.” Suga looked back at me, and I saw she was nervous. “How about next weekend?”

“Next weekend is good for me,” I said, then, “I don’t want to waste any more time.”  _ without you, or dancing around you like I have been. Direct.  _

This seemed to satisfy her, and we stood there for a moment, waiting for the other to do something. 

“I was wondering why you were so accepting, all of a sudden,” she said. It sounded kind of like a question.

I shrugged, “Because I’m as gay as the rest of you, it seems.” At that, she smiled, and I felt like I’d won a victory by the way her eyes lit up. I gestured to myself, saying, “I thought for sure my vest would have clued you in, though.”

She rolled her eyes, and the tension I hadn’t realized was there dissipated. “I wondered about that too.”

“Wonder no more,” I said softly, then glanced away. “I think,” I exhaled, feeling a little chilly despite my layers, “I think I’m going to get going. Thank you for inviting me, and please pass along my praise to Aoki.”

“O-okay.” She hummed, as if she were going to say something, then simply said, “I will. Thanks for coming with me.”

“Anytime,” I said honestly. 

“Do you need help getting back to your place?”

“Nah,” I said, looking towards the exit, “I can get back alright.”

“Okay. Good night, Daichi.”

A shiver went down my spine at the sound of my name on her lips, and I felt that treacherous feeling kick up in my gut, “Good night,” I replied, hopeful at last.

 

“ _ Well? _ How did it go? Did you tell her? What did she say? Was the art cool?”

As soon as I passed over the threshold, Hinata began bombarding me with questions. I never thought that I would be turning to these two for advice, but their recent acceptance of their sexuality and their knowledge of Suga as a college student was currently crucial to me and my mission.

“Christ, Hinata, slow down. Let her take her shoes off,” Kageyama scolded, poking her head out of the kitchen.

This earned her playfully dirty look, and Hinata beckoned me farther into their apartment, which had become a weird, second-home to me since I arrived on campus. I kicked off my boots and hung my coat and hat over the side of one couch.

“Do you want anything besides tea and pizza?” Kageyama called from the kitchen, probably addressing us both.

“Just pizza!” Hinata cried, happily plopping onto the couch as I settled down onto it.

“Just tea,” I said, smiling at the two of them. 

Kageyama emerged a few moments later, balancing a plate of pizza, a glass of milk, and a mug of tea. Grateful, I took the mug and made space for her on the couch. 

“How  _ did _ it go?” she asked, hiding her question behind a sip of milk. She’d seemed particularly invested in my pursuit of Suga, which I had found incredibly perplexing.

I inched over as she wedged herself between Hinata and me, and I saw from the corner of my eye Hinata land a quick peck on her cheek. “As well as it could have, I guess. I told her my feelings, and she agreed to meet with me at least one more time.”

“ _ Yes _ ! That’s great!” Hinata said, “Since she hasn’t been around very often we’ve been kind of worried, does she seem okay?”

“Yeah, better than at that last meeting,” I confirmed, smiling as the two of them relaxed. They were good natured and understanding, and I could see why Suga had been hesitant to put me in touch with them, considering how unaccepting I had been back in high school. There was a small part of me that was proud of the women they were growing up to be.

Besides that spread of pride, I felt the inklings of old shame well up in my chest, and I reminded myself that I was actively making amends. I didn’t say insensitive things anymore, and had read probably every article under the sun about LGBTQIA+ issues. I was learning more every day, and that was fine.  _ Progress is progress _ , I reminded myself,  _ Even if it’s not much. Stay steady. _

“Where are you going to take her?” Hinata asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“I don’t know yet,” I replied, “It won’t be a date, and I don’t really know what all there is to do around here.”

“We have a practice match, and the orchestra has a concert coming up,” Hinata offered.

I laughed, “Those are good ideas, but it’d be hard to get to know someone during a game or a concert.”

“Just invite her to have coffee, or dinner,” Kageyama suggested. “Suga invited us over for a lunch a few times, she seems to really enjoy cooking for other people.”

Surprised by her insight, I said, “That’s a good idea. You don’t think it feels too date-like?”

Kageyama shrugged, “Maybe, but you could always do it at her house.”

“Yeah, her housemates are always there,” Hinata said, “It’s not like at your place, where it’s just you.”

I blushed at the thought of Suga coming over to my tiny apartment to have a private dinner, and quickly tried to quash the idea. Seeing her as frequently as I had been was wrecking my focus. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll run the idea by her, otherwise, coffee seems pretty safe.”

Pleased, Hinata turned her attention to the TV, which had been paused on a cheesy anime the two of them were watching before I arrived. She reached a foot out to the table, where the remote sat, and pawed at it unsuccessfully. Kageyama leaned forward and swiped it off the table, holding it out of her reach, “You’re being dumb, why not just put your pizza down?”

“I almost had it, you jerk.”

“You almost kicked it off the table, you mean.”

“Yeah, whatever, I  _ love _ you too, Bakageyama.”

I saw Kageyama flush all the way to her hairline, and she didn’t say anything in response, just began pulling up a movie.

I laughed, and when the credits started, I heard her say quietly, “Yeah, love you too.”


	10. Just Lunch

“I’m really sorry, Suga, I can’t reschedule this meeting. You know how hard it is to get time with my advisor,” Haru said as they poured themself a travel mug of coffee. Their backpack was on the chair next to mine, and they were almost ready to leave for the day.

I groaned and slid my elbows along the bartop until my face was on the counter. Usually, this would earn me a faceful of crumbs, but I had been cleaning furiously since I had woken up that morning. “I know, I know. I just thought I would ask, anyway.”

“What is everyone else up to today?” Haru asked, “Can’t they be a buffer?”

“Jiri said that she would be around, and Ryota will be in and out all day. Aoki is wrapping some stuff up at her exhibit, though,” I sighed, “You’re the best buffer, though. I want  _ you _ here.”

Laughing, Haru added some cream and sugar to their coffee before swirling their mug, “What a compliment.” They glanced back at me from over their shoulder, “Look, you’ll be fine.”

I covered my face, “You have no idea.”

I heard Haru stop what they were doing and lean against the counter across from me. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. She’s been upfront with her feelings, and you obviously still have feelings of your own—”

“Hush! Please, oh my god, I can’t,” I moaned. “I don’t have  _ feelings _ for her.”

I didn’t have to see Haru to know that they were rolling their eyes. “Yeah, okay. You’ve been cleaning for like five hours and can’t bear to be alone with her. You’re crushing on her,  _ hard _ .”

“I can’t.”

“Why not.”

I sat up and put my head in my hands, “Because I’ve been such a huge asshole. What if this is just a weird phase for her?”

“Okay, look,” Haru said, in their most no-nonsense voice. “That’s a hurtful assumption, but since you’re feeling stubborn, we’ll go there. You know how you can figure out if she’s going through a phase?  _ Ask her _ . Not only has it been three years since you confessed to her, but it’s been three years of what sounds like misery for her, too. She  _ transferred schools _ on the off-chance that you might be here, and be willing to reconnect. I think you can meet her part way and have some goddamn lunch. It’s just lunch.”

The thing was, I knew that they were right. But I was still reeling from Daichi’s confession. I hadn’t seen it coming, because I had been too busy trying to keep my  _ non-feelings _ in check. But I knew they were there, and the longing was the strongest of them. I would have been lying through my teeth if I had said that I didn’t miss our friendship. And now, faced with the opportunity to get to know the person that, at one point, was the girl of my literal dreams, I was terrified. I didn’t want to be her experiment, and I didn’t want us to try and then fall short on rekindling our friendship. 

“I don’t know why I even agreed to this,” I told them, thoroughly dodging having to take responsibility for my shitty comments. Again.

Haru stared at me, and I felt my skin crawl. They were over my shit, apparently. “You know exactly why. Now go get changed, it’s almost eleven.”

I swallowed and meekly said, “Okay,” before going upstairs to shower and change.  _ At least Ryota and Jiri will be around today _ , I thought, dropping my pajamas in the hamper. I rushed through my shower, wondering what Daichi would be wearing, and how we would be able to have a conversation with not one, but two rejected (?) confessions between us. 

My heart threatened to beat right out of my chest.

I had invited her to my house in hopes that it would turn into a group hangout, but it was looking like that wouldn’t be the case. The other reason I had invited her over is because I would be more comfortable kicking her out if I could escape to my room or have back up from a housemate. Originally, my roommates didn’t have plans, but somehow, as soon as I told them Daichi would be coming over for lunch, they became scarce. Punks.

I quickly dressed, opting for a pair of black fleece leggings and a chunky, midnight-blue knit sweater. The sweater was one I had had for a while, it was soft and pilling from the wear, but still so warm and cozy. I loved the way it contrasted with my hair, which I braided loosely to one side. I decided to stick with my usual makeup-free look, then ran down the stairs to start prepping for lunch after putting on a pair of slippers.

My plan was to get a stir fry started before Daichi arrived, to limit the amount of time we were actually alone together, but when I got to the bottom of the stairs, she was there. Haru had opened the door and was letting her in as I descended. 

She caught sight of me, and smiled. It was a genuine, broad smile, and belied nothing. I paused on the steps, and she said, “Hi, sorry I’m early.”

“Oh,” I paused on the bottom stair, “It’s alright, come on in. I was just coming down to get started.”

Haru nodded at me, giving me a thumbs up behind Daichi’s back. “Enjoy your lunch, I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye, Haru.” I said, taking the last step. I padded into the kitchen and asked Daichi if she wanted anything to drink.

“Some tea, if you have it.”

I turned to look at her, “Do you still prefer black tea?” 

She was settling into a chair at the bar, but sort of froze when I asked. Her dark eyes flickered to mine, and she said, “I do, black tea would be perfect.” She visibly relaxed into her chair, as if forcing herself.

“I figured I would make some stir fry,” I told her as I set the water on the stove, deciding to ignore the thoughtful way she looked at me. I went to the fridge and started to pull out the vegetables I had purchased the day before. “Is that alright?”

“No spicy tofu today?” 

Shrugging, I pulled out a cutting board, “The store didn’t really have what I needed for that. Besides, I remember you being pretty wimpy when it came to spice.”

Daichi laughed, low and rich, and tilted her head. “I’ve gotten a little more tolerant. Can I help with anything?”

“Sure,” I set the cutting board in front of her and placed peppers, broccoli, onion, garlic, and a few other simple veggies on the counter next to it after I rinsed them.  “You can start cutting stuff up. I started marinating the meat yesterday, I can do that while you chop these.”

“Great,” she said, “Do you have a knife and a bowl?”

I pulled a knife from the block on the counter and fished a large mixing bowl from an upper cabinet. “Yeah, this should be big enough.” I placed it in front of her and paused, watching as she rolled up the sleeves of the forest green waffle shirt she was wearing. Her hair was pulled back out of her face again today, and she looked sort of rugged and strong. She glanced up to meet my eyes after pulling an onion onto the cutting board, and I felt an inkling of a blush creep up my neck. “I’m going to turn on some music,” I said, abruptly turning to snag my phone from where I had left it earlier that morning. 

“Sounds good to me.”

I heard her start diligently chopping, and selected a neutral, mostly-acoustic playlist from my online music player. I tried to focus on the music and the task at hand, instead of how quick my emotions were running. I opened the fridge to find the container with the marinating beef strips I had prepped the night before.

I’m not really sure what I had been feeling when Daichi came out to me the week before. Since then, little things had started to make sense, like the uncharacteristic uncertainty she had been carrying with her, or the way her high school style had evolved from jeans and tee shirts to something more dapper and bold. It had been a little surreal, and the emotional fallout I experienced that night and the day after had been both confusing and sort of wonderful. Haru was right about one thing, I knew exactly why I had agreed to lunch. It was because I was excited and intrigued and curious about her. Then, there was a vain, wounded part of me that was hungry to know more about her feelings for me.

“What did you marinate the meat in?” she asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

I realized I had been staring into the fridge for a little longer than necessary, and grabbed the meat and the container full of rice I had made the day before. “Oh, there’s this sauce the grocery store sells that I really like. I’m not sure what’s in it, but it’s really good.”

She hummed, then asked about the vegetables, “Did you want these anywhere besides the bowl when I’m done?”

Glancing over, I saw that she had finished the onion and garlic already, “Oh, you’re right. Set those aside, I have to heat up a pan.” I was impressed by how quickly she got it done.

We continued like that for a while, not talking much, until I mentioned that the oil was hot enough for the garlic and onion. She stood from her perch and brought those around while I took a spatula from the drawer to the side. I didn’t realize she was there until I turned around and bumped into her.

And, just like that time I slipped and she caught me, we stayed close, just for a moment longer than necessary. I swallowed, peering up at her before finding myself and gesturing to the pan. “Go ahead,” I said shakily. I averted my eyes to the warmed oil, trying not to think of how good she smelled or how her shirt clung to her curves.

“All of it?” Her voice was a little low and raspy, like she was having the same kind of trouble with normalcy that I was. I kicked that thought directly into oblivion, unable to deal with the possibility.

“Yeah,” I snuck a peek at her face, recognizing an expression similar to the one she wore when she kept me from falling on my face. I was starting to be able to read her again, and the pang of familiarity that rang through me threatened to knock me on my feet. I picked up that she was feeling nervous around me, but that was the most obvious.

Then, the rest of the cooking went on like  _ that _ . Subtle, accidental touches, low compliments on the music, or quiet jokes about each other’s cooking ability. I almost couldn’t help myself and we fell into an easy rhythm, almost as if no time had passed between us. After a while, I didn’t even notice the persistent absence of my housemates.

The meal itself was delicious, “Thanks to my superior chopping,” Daichi had ribbed, but by that point some of the tension had faded, and it felt like we were friends again.

We’d decided to eat in the living room and see what was on TV. Finding something to watch is usually a huge chore, but Daichi had told me to pick, telling me that she expected something cheesy based on all the shows we used to watch together.

In retaliation, I picked an old, over the top drama we used to watch after school, which made her laugh. We ate, occasionally reminiscing about some obscure after practice memory triggered by rewatching a few choice episodes. 

It wasn’t long before our empty plates were on the coffee table in front of us, and we were chatting readily. I sat on one end of the couch, with my feet tucked beneath me, and she sat across from me on the other end, her feet propped up on the table. She was sitting low with her hands folded on her belly, all but sinking into the back cushion.

“I’m so stuffed, Suga, when did you learn how to cook like that?”

Laughing, I said, “Well, when I was an underclassmen, I started cooking to procrastinate, because it was still productive. Ryota really likes to cook, so I picked a few things up from him along the way, too.”

“Color me impressed,” she said. She looked like she wanted to say something else, so I waited. After a moment, she asked, “How did you know?” I felt smug about having read her so well. 

Her thoughtful expression filled in the rest of her question, and I hummed, looking to our plates stacked on the table. “I always kind of knew. I think I realized, though, with you.”  _ Good, nice and direct.  _ I thought, at the same time wondering,  _ Why push it? What am I doing? _

She sat up higher in her seat, turning to face me more seriously. “Do…” she looked at my face, then away, seeming completely unsure, “Do you want to tell me more about that? Like,” she grimaced, “You can yell at me if you want.”

I shook my head, “No, no. Ah, it’s okay,” and when she gave me an incredulous look, I said, “I think, the ball was in my court this whole time. I vaguely remember getting a voicemail from you, but not listening to it. And I failed to touch base with you when you got here, so, instead of yelling, I apologize.”

This surprised her, and she leaned back against the armrest. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

I shrugged, “Too late.”

She smiled, shaking her head, “I guess so.”

“What about you, when did you know?” After Aoki’s exhibit, I had typed that question into a text message more than once, and failed to send it every time. I was grateful to be on the topic already.

“Actually, it’s not a super heartwarming story,” she admitted, drawing her knees to her chest.

Even though I desperately wanted for her to continue, I said, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know, but I want to,” she said, giving me a sincere, but thin smile. “I had a rough go of it my freshman year. I joined the volleyball team, but an injury took me out pretty early in the year. By the time I healed up, between school work and physical therapy, it was too difficult for me to get back into playing.”

I frowned, uncomfortable with not knowing about her injury or her departure from the sport. I had assumed, incorrectly, that she still played. “Sorry to hear,” I said softly.

“Thank you.” With a sigh, she said, “Because I didn’t know the team all that well, I lost that support system. I kind of fell into a funk, and had to work on redefining myself without volleyball. I did a lot of reflection on my relationships and myself and kind of, just, came to the conclusion.” She looked at me apologetically, “I think if you hadn’t come out to me, I would never have even thought about my sexuality. I was worried for a while that I was just perceived as some sporty butch, but eventually I realized that I _am_ just a sporty butch; and that’s just fine,” she laughed, shaking her head at herself.

“Wow,” I stared at her, seeing her anew. “Daichi, I’m sorry you had such a rough time figuring things out.”

She smiled, “You know, it is what it is.” She shifted and then withdrew her phone, “I actually had my hair cut pretty short for a while, want to see?”

“Yes,” I blurted, “Give it to me.”

Laughing again, she said, “Hold on, they’re here.” She scooted closer and tilted the screen of her phone towards me. “See?”

I took the phone from her and held it close to my face, the air leaving my body when I saw the first picture. She wasn’t lying when she said short. She’d had a boyish cut that she wore styled, which played up her strong features and accented her cool dapper style. I swiped through the pictures, feeling my heart weaken with every passing frame. “What made you want to grow it out?” I managed.

She took the phone after I handed it to her, having gone through all the pictures, “Oh, I don’t know. I had to get it cut pretty often, and it got to be a little inconvenient. What do you think?” She swiped through a few of them before turning her eyes back to me.

While we were looking at the photos, we had gotten closer on the couch, and were sitting on the same third of it. We’d gravitated towards each other, and stayed there after Daichi’s phone screen had gone dark.

“It suited you,” I said, searching her face.

She was so, so close, and her expression was so inviting. Her lips parted at my compliment, and I could feel the warmth of her body next to me, drawing me in. Her dark eyes flickered down to my mouth, and without thinking, I licked my lips.

I could see on her face that this was the straw that broke her resolve. After all of the quiet flirtation, the longing I had been feeling since we crossed paths again, the invitation, the easy way she had confided in me, it had all led to this.

And I’m not sure which of us closed the distance between us, but it didn’t matter. The second my lips found hers, I was swept up in the feel of her arms moving around me, the fleeting tickle of her hair against my cheek, and the soft, pillowy way her mouth moved against mine.


	11. Different Threads

Daichi pulled away from me as if she had been shocked, and in her absence I felt empty. I had to think hard about pulling my hands close to my body, instead of reaching for her.

“Koushi,” her dark eyes were wide and round with surprise, and she was leaning way back from me. 

I reached tentatively to my lips, feeling them with my fingertips in disbelief. Feeling her pressing into me had been  _ so _ good. But I didn’t know what to say.

“I-I’m sorry, I should probably get going,” she said, rubbing her hand over her face. The gesture was rich with agony, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. 

“Wait, wait,” I leaned forward again, my mind coming back to my body as I realized the magnitude of what had just happened. “It’s okay.”

She looked at me warily, reading my face. “I was going to ask permission, the first time,” she said cryptically.

I felt myself flush bright red at her words.  _ She’s been thinking about kissing me _ , my stupid brain started to repeat to me. I shook my head, unsure of how to proceed. She was obviously troubled, and fixating on her crush on me was not going to help us. “It’s okay, I’m okay. Are you?”

She rolled her shoulders, loosening them up before she lifted her chin to address me. “I’m fine, but are we…”

“Are we?” I prompted, when she didn’t seem like she would finish her thought.

“Are we okay?”

I studied her face. Her brows were drawn together, and her eyes searched mine, no longer drifting to my mouth. I glanced at her lips, wanting them again, and forced myself to look her in the eyes. “We’re okay.”

She groaned and leaned back, pushing the palms of her hands to her eyes. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Daichi was obviously struggling, so I said the first thing that came to mind, “I liked it.”

I didn’t know what the kiss meant for me, or for us. But finally, after lying to myself for weeks and months, and after denying it to my friends, I had to come clean.  _ I still have feelings for this girl. _

My romantic feelings were still tangled up in a mess of baggage and pain and distrust, but they were there, on rock-solid foundation.  _ Because she’s strong and beautiful, nothing in that realm has changed in the least. _

She dropped her hands to stare at me, and I was struck by the elegant slope of her wrists and the toned contours of her forearms.

Her frown deepened, and I was pulled in by the inviting planes of her cheek and jaw and neck.

She opened her mouth to speak, and I wanted so badly to hear her beautifully rich, deep voice tell me that she loved me again.

“I’m surprised,” is what she said instead.

_ Oh, god. _ I suddenly realized what this might look like from her perspective.  _ I don’t want anything to do with you, then I waffle and invite you out. I keep you at arm’s distance, and then tell you that I liked kissing you. Christ, Suga, you’re a mess. _ “I’m sorry.”

“I think I should go,” she opened her palms to me, “I’m feeling… a little confused.”

I nodded, maybe a little too quickly. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?” I asked tentatively.

She gave me a considering look, “Not now, but I will. I just need to think first.”

“Okay,” I said.

She stood and looked around the room, her eyes landing on the dishes.

“Don’t worry about them,” I said quickly, “I can walk you out.”

For a moment, I thought that she would refuse, but she nodded. I jumped up and followed her to the door, where we let the silence stretch between us.

She slipped her shoes on, and I watched her, standing awkwardly in the living room doorway. When she straightened up to look at me, it was obvious that neither of us knew what to say to the other. 

Daichi took a step towards me, raising one hand as if she were going to touch my face, and my breath hitched in my throat. She stopped short, though, and dropped her hand to her side. “I’ll call you, okay?”

I nodded, unable to say anything because it felt like at that moment, we would never sync up again. She gave me a small, comforting smile, then disappeared out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, I sagged against the stair handrail, feeling weak and unsure.  _ What am I doing? _ I asked myself, again, and then again and again.

 

The next day, I was curled up in a roommate cuddle puddle, feeling sorry for myself after spilling everything to them when Daichi texted me.

_ Dinner at my place tonight? Or drinks? _

“Friends, friends,” I said, sitting straight up when I received the message. “Daichi just messaged me, she wants to get together tonight.”

Jiri rolled her eyes, “Suga, you’re insufferable.”

Aoki laughed good naturedly and petted my hair, “You’re both confused, it makes sense to want to clear the air sooner rather than later.”

“This never would have happened if you all had been around!” I whined.

Haru nudged me with their foot, “Why do you think we were busy?”

I pouted, then caught Ryota and Jiri sharing a look, “Wait, I figured you were putting me on the spot, but what was that look?”

Everyone else turned to look at Jiri, who cowed under our collective gaze, “It’s nothing.”

“Please, please tell me, I can’t go on like this.”

This startled her into a laugh, and she said, “Alright, fine, just because you’re finally pulling your head out of your ass about all of this.” With a serious face, she said, “So, at first, I didn’t know that Daichi was  _ the _ Daichi, but after she came over the first time we got to talking.”

I felt my heart sink into my stomach, and I inched myself until I could lean upright against the couch. On my way, I accidentally kneed Ryota in the head, I grimaced and apologized before squishing myself into the spot.

Jiri was laying across from me, her head on Ryota’s lap. She blew some air through her lips, “She told me all about her move, and how she felt like she ruined the best friendship she ever had by saying what she said.”

“But we couldn’t have been friends,” I complained. 

“I think she probably knows that,” Jiri said thoughtfully, “But she feels like she single-handedly ruined the friendship by saying what she did.”

“And now?” I asked.

“Well, she was hoping to try to talk to you in person, to see if you were still upset. She also told me that when she thought she had feelings for you, but wasn’t really sure.”

“Oh, like, when you fall in love with the only available person, just because they’re available?” Aoki asked. “You were the first important gay person in her life, so when she came to terms, you were probably the first person she thought of.”

“Right,” Jiri said, “But she said that she knew for sure when she saw you come home that day.”

“ _ What _ ?” I asked, completely incredulous, “I was like, dead on my feet that morning.”

“Yeah, you looked like shit,” Jiri confirmed, “But Daichi must have a thing for messy femmes because that sealed the deal.”

“And she just… told you all this?”

Jiri shrugged, “Yep.”

I looked around my roommates, sprawled out on the floor of our living room with blankets and cushions strewn around and underus. “That’s why you were all pushing me to see her.”

Haru picked at the edge of a blanket with lazy fingers, “Partly. Even if she weren’t queer, we would have pushed you to at least have a conversation, since you’ve been carrying that pain for so long.”

“But now, do you want to be with her?” Ryota asked, breaking his silence.

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “It still kind of hurts, but it’s  _ her. _ Because it’s her? I don’t know, either way, I’m feeling confused and a little selfish.”

“You do know it’s not all or nothing, right?” Haru asked, arching one eyebrow. “You can take your time, and date for a little while. You don’t have to jump right into a committed long term relationship.”

“It’s probably best that you don’t jump in,” Aoki said, “I know it was an easy decision for you to make, but you did just get out of that thing with Terushima.”

I rolled my phone over in my hands, reliving some of that fresh shame. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t think I could jump right in.”

Laughing, Haru said, “I feel like, every time you say you’re not going to do something, you do it anyway.”

They weren’t wrong, because I was already in the middle of texting Daichi back:  _ Take out and drinks at yours? _

Several hours later, I was standing at a chipped wood door, double checking the apartment number against the message Daichi had sent me. Once I had confirmed the number for the millionth time, I waited, listening. There was no sign of anyone inside.

The winter was finally starting to fade, and while the days were growing longer, the dark still came early. I could taste the warm edge of spring on the breeze, cajoling and sweet. I wasn’t ready to let go of this winter yet, and tried to wrap myself up in it before bringing myself to tap on the door. 

My knock was loud and cut through the silence of the early evening. I heard something shuffle around on the other side of the door, and I tightened my grip on the bottle of cheap wine I had picked up on the way. 

Daichi opened the door to me, back lit and framed by the glow of her apartment. Warm air crept out to me, tickling my face, and I could smell the take out she’d ordered for us. 

“Koushi,” she greeted, and my heart warmed in my chest at the sound of my first name. 

_ Closer, closer. _

“Daichi,” I replied, tilting my head in a hello.

She stepped to the side, gesturing for me to come in, “It’s cold out there, come in and warm up.”

I was already plenty warm, but didn’t argue. I kept my eyes trained ahead as I walked into the apartment, trying to keep my eyes off of her. “Thanks,” I said, kicking off my shoes.

Of course, everything about her had already ingrained itself into my memory. Including and not limited to: her broad shoulders filling out her slouchy cardigan, the short hairs that had fallen from her ponytail and were resting on her forehead, and the pretty way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

“Did you find it okay?” she asked, hovering near me after closing the door.

“Yeah, it was pretty easy. Hinata and Kageyama live pretty close to here, don’t they?” I handed her the wine and stepped over the foyer step to peer around the living room. It was pretty sparse, save for a threadbare couch, a small TV and stand, distressed spool coffee table, and a table with a single chair under the living room window.

“They do,” Daichi said, and I could feel her eyes on me as I took in her apartment, “I spend a good bit of time with them, actually.”

“I still need to make up skipping that meeting to Hinata and Kageyama,” I said, glancing over my shoulder as I shrugged out of my layers. 

She leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, and I felt the tension stretch between us.

“Do you want to eat, or talk first?” I asked, hanging my coat over hers on the hook installed next to the door. 

“Both,” she said drily, and then in a graceful movement, slipped away from the wall and headed into the kitchen. I followed slowly, wondering if her previous apartments had been as impersonal as this one. I imagined her moving in, carrying boxes up the stairs to this small apartment alone.  _ It takes a lot of strength,  _ I thought,  _ Moving someplace new without any help. _

The kitchen, like the rest of the apartment, was bare and clean. She was pulling plates from the cabinet, saying, “I hope it’s okay if we eat in the living room. Wine opener and silverware are in the drawer right by the sink.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, taking the plate from her while opening the drawer she mentioned. We spent a few minutes getting our plates together and pouring a glass of wine each. There were several take out containers on the counter by the stove, and from the logo I saw that she’d gone down the street to a local place. She'd brought some extra spicy tofu for me, so I took an extra helping. We went back into the living room, and I sat on the opposite end of the couch from her, feeling on edge.

She pushed the spool towards me with her foot, so that we could both reach, then put her things down, leaving enough room for me. 

Without taking a bite, or a single drink, she sank into her corner of the couch and said, “Where are you at, with us?”

Startled, I put my things down next to hers, my appetite nonexistent. Her direct, to-the-point attitude wasn’t new, but I found myself started by it nonetheless. “I’m still feeling confused,” I said honestly.

Nodding as if she had expected that, she said, “Okay.”

I tried to glean her thoughts from her expression, and picked up on some of the stress and anxiety she was feeling.  _ I wonder if she thinks I’m rebounding. She did ask about Terushima at the gallery _ . I wanted to widen the channel of communication. “That probably doesn’t help you, but I can tell you what I’m confused about.”

She pushed one of the loose strands of hair up out of her face, “Sure.”

I took a deep breath, then grabbed my wine, which had been poured into a chipped mug. I ran my thumb over the embossed national team logo on the side and said, “Alright. I don’t know if Jiri told you very much, but—”

Daichi’s expression froze, and she looked like she wanted to disappear into the earth.

I waved a hand, trying to assuage her discomfort, “But—” I took a deep breath, and finally just let go, starting with a mirror of one of our earlier conversations “Okay, 100% honesty, your reaction to me really messed me up for a while. And at the time, I knew that there was a good chance that you couldn’t return my feelings, but somehow I had convinced myself that we would end up together,” I closed my eyes, letting myself feel that old, familiar pain. When I opened them again, I stared into my mug. “I sort of felt like, if you would say something like that, after knowing me for so long, what were my chances of a stranger seeing me more clearly? And I held onto that for ages. And then I started to blame everything on you, because it was easy.

“It was easier to be mad at you then it was to unpack all of the ways that I loved you. It was so much easier to keep you at arm's’ length and be mad at you than to try to make amends when I saw you in person again. 

“But I’ve been  _ so _ confused, because when I see you, all of those old feelings come back. Even the ones that made me think that we would end up together. But it’s difficult to separate those expectations and hope from the messy things I feel when I see you. And when you came out to me, it turned my world upside down. So now I don’t really know what to think.”

Silence hung between us, and I kept my eyes down. Everything between us was a mess, and it almost didn’t help that her expectations of me were minimal.

“We could still end up together.”

I looked up, sharply, and saw her, with her head tilted, a bemused smile playing on her lips. I blinked, unsure of her.

Daichi looked up to meet my eyes, “It doesn’t have to be right now, or even this year. But if that’s what you want,” she exhaled, “I told you that I would be here for you.”

“O-okay,” I stuttered. I hadn’t dared to think about a real possibility of us. In my head, that option dissipated years ago. Now, it felt like a heavy door being unlocked and slowly opened.

She inched forward a little, and opened her palms in a reassuring gesture, “You set the pace, if you need time to figure out what it is you want or need, just let me know.”

At that moment, I didn’t need to think about what I wanted, my entire  _ soul _ was aching for her. I reached out, closing the gaping distance between us, and gently touched her cheek. She leaned into the contact, and I dropped my forehead to hers, holding myself back.

That voice in my head urged me onwards again,  _ Closer, closer. Get closer.  _

Daichi reached up and loosely circled my wrist with her fingers, gently cupping my hand to her cheek. “You know,” she breathed, her dark eyes deep and endless, “I really think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” Her thumb rubbed a small circle on the inside of my wrist, making me shiver. “In case you had any doubt.”

I pulled back, just a little, keeping my hand on her cheek, to look at her squarely. “I want you to kiss me.”

Her eyes flashed with absolute anticipation, and I heard her inhale sharply before she pressed her lips firmly against mine.

Like the first time, it was perfection.


	12. Springtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut incoming

“Suga,” Daichi’s voice was breathless and intense in my ear, and a shiver went down my spine. “Are you ready to leave?”

We were out at a bar, and it was getting noisier and noisier as the night settled into itself. It was probably our fifth or sixth date, not that I was counting. I organized most of our dates, making good on showing her all the campus and surrounding area had to offer. I couldn’t believe how well it was going, and my housemates were thrilled for me, and thrilled to be done with my shit.

We’d been taking things slow, working on carefully reassembling the foundations of our friendship before making things too serious. We were dating exclusively, of course, and the pace was comfortable. Our dates ranged from drinks at the bar, to dinner at mine, or coffee between classes. We talked every day, sending texts throughout the day or spending short, but late night, hours on the phone.

We started by talking about everything. From my fleeting romance with Terushima, our individual first relationships, the weird quirks our advisors had, to everything in between. After we had gotten everything out in the open, from my baggage to Daichi’s incredible, unwavering regret and persistent love, it was easy to start piecing together what a romantic relationship would look like. 

Currently, it looked something like Daichi leaning close, beckoning me home amidst a growing crowd of rowdy undergraduates. I reached out, placing my hand on the small of her back to keep her close to me, revelling in the way she angled her body to run parallel to mine.

I was so happy. She was beautiful, kind, strong, and persistent in all of those things. I was endlessly grateful for the effort she had put into making me feel complete and loved. 

I turned and rocked forward on my toes, just a little, “I’m ready.”

Daichi turned to lead the way towards the door, grabbing my hand so we wouldn’t be separated as we weaved through the growing crowd. She laced her fingers through mine, and I felt a familiar, but powerful, kind of pleasure jolt up my arm and to my heart. I squeezed her hand, and felt her return the gesture, so I squeezed a little harder. This prompted a squeeze-off until she tugged me playfully out the door, into the mild evening air.

Laughing, I crashed into her, letting her momentum carry me right into her side, where she swept me up into an embrace. We were both a little tipsy, and I was just  _ so excited _ to be reconnected with her, to be on the same page, and to have her, finally.

She ducked her head and quickly kissed me on the nose before yanking me light-heartedly in the direction of her place, which was much closer and far more private than my house.

My heart skipped a beat, because taking things slow also included  _ taking things slow _ . We had talked about intimacy and sex, but hadn’t yet gotten around to fooling around. There was a lot of emotional and tender intimacy. A lot of staring into each other’s eyes while lying down together, or her playing with my hair, or gentle, searching touches. It was all sickeningly sweet, and I loved it. She accepted whatever I could give her, happily, and she gave me all that she was capable of. It was pure, and it was perfect for us both.

We made our way back to her apartment, laughing and joking and jogging most of the way, and as soon as the door was shut behind us I was on her, kissing her with everything I had. Because she was  _ gorgeous _ and completely mine. 

With a meek utterance of my name, she returned the affection two-fold, pressing me against the wall and drowning me in kiss after kiss. Her tongue danced against mine as her fingers sought the buttons of my coat, and I yanked it open for her. Once I’d freed myself from my layers, I tugged Daichi’s coat from her, running my hands over the breadth of her shoulders in the process. Her grip on my hips tightened, and she sighed into my mouth as I tried to tug her shirt from where it was tucked into her slacks. 

She arched over me, dropping her head to run her teeth along my earlobe, making me shudder. I felt her hand knot in my hair, guiding my head to one side so that she could run her tongue along the underside of my jaw. As quickly as she had started, she pulled away, and before I could fully protest, she wrapped her arms around me and lifted me off of the ground.

With a sound of surprise, I curled myself around her, hooking my feet together behind her so that I could hold myself up. Her hands moved along the underside of my thighs and supported me from my butt and lower back. I looped my arms around her neck and leaned over her, dropping my head to kiss her fully.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I needed her like nothing else. These feelings must have been echoed in her, because she ran a hand up my back to rest between my shoulder blades so that she could kiss me, hold me steady, and walk at the same time. 

She took me to the bedroom, where she dropped me on the bed gently enough to let me know that she thought I was precious, but with enough force to let me know that she  _ wanted _ me. The only light in the room was from the hall light, and brightened only a portion of the room, backlighting her and making it hard to see her face.

I watched, wide-eyed, as she peeled off her shirt, tugging it over her head. I grasped at her sheets, unable to breathe as she dropped her shirt on the floor and prowled towards me.

_ This _ was the Daichi I knew, strong and bold, and now she was leaning over me, her fingers playing on the curve of my hips beneath my shirt. She kissed me once, fiercely, overwhelming me with intensity. All I could do was open my mouth to her, letting her take all she wanted. 

Suddenly, she pulled away, leaving me breathless.

In the dim light of her room, her eyes were especially dark. Her lids were heavy with desire, and  her lips were parted and glossy. She dropped her head and placed a chaste, gentle kiss on my forehead, then several more on my nose and cheeks and lips. “I really want you, Koushi,” she said, breathing quietly in my ear.

I almost melted, and managed to get out one word: “Please.”

That was the permission she needed, and the next thing I knew, we were both naked on her bed, a tangle of arms and legs and hair. I couldn’t keep up with her. Her hands roamed all over my body, skirting over skin I’d never realized was sensitive. She followed each teasing touch with a kiss or a long, flat sweep of her tongue. I ran my fingers through her hair as she sprinkled my collar with love bites and open-mouthed kisses. Our heavy breathing and the weak noises escaping me filled the room. 

Her fingertips traced along the inside of my thighs, leaving a burning trail in their wake. I arched into the touch, gasping as she graze the sensitive underside of my breasts with her teeth. I fell apart under her searching mouth, and she looked smug and more satisfied with every sound she made me make. I threw my head back, unable to keep it together and watch at the same time. 

It felt like she kissed every inch of me, and there was nothing I could do but lean into her, threading my fingers in her hair as she made her way lower and lower. 

“Oh,  _ god _ ,” I heard myself say after her tongue had traced the innermost seam of my thighs. 

_ Please, please, please. _ I thought, mentally begging as her tongue teased the tender skin of my thighs before she dropped her head, her cheek resting against the leg I had propped up. I panted, unable to get an even breath into my lungs as I watched her send me a sly, sneaky look from between my legs.

I knew what was coming, but as soon as her tongue parted me, running gently over my clit, my mind went blank. 

Before that night, I was vaguely worried that I would have to teach her everything. 

I’d never been more wrong in my life.

She used her tongue in rhythmic, dangerous patterns, pausing only when I got too close, or when my body began to shudder in anticipation. My head was thrown back, but a break in the endless sensation made me look down to her, through my mess of hair. My chest heaved with the effort of breathing. 

I watched, transfixed, as she withdrew two fingers from her mouth and slipped them inside of me. I moaned, arching my back as she crooked them and made short, quick strokes along  _ that _ spot. She made my entire body light up, and I got goosebumps all over, electricity running all the way up my spine and right to the crown of my head. 

Just when I thought it would be too much, she used her other hand to pressed down on my stomach, just below my belly button, to get her tongue back on my clit.

All of it, the perfect, consistent strokes of her fingers, the way she held me in place as my hips bucked so that she could get her tongue on the overly-sensitive mound of my clit, and the fact that it was  _ her _ , drove me to fall apart completely.

My body locked up, and I managed to say her name once before that tingling feeling shot back down from my head and through to my toes until every last sensation, every last ounce of pleasure, transcended to release. 

She kept her mouth and hands on me while those waves rolled through me. Just when I started to come back down, she moved her tongue and fingers against me, threatening to kill me with the additional sensations. I was breathing hard, shuddering with the intensity of it, and she sat up on her elbows, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. Her hair was a mess, having fallen completely out of the ponytail she’d had when we were out.

With an intensely erotic expression, she dragged the back of one hand across her mouth, and I stared at the glossy, swollen set of her lips. I thought I was going to die.

She crawled up me, then laid into me, burying her face in the crook of my neck as our breasts pressed together and our legs intertwined. She let her fingers play across my sides, making me shiver as I caught my breath. She kissed my neck, humming into the soft skin of my throat. 

I felt completely overwhelmed. 

Every sensation was  _ too much _ .

The tickle of her hair on my shoulders, the weight of her on top of me, the way her breathing was falling in line with mine as we pressed together in the dark. I closed my eyes and pulled my arms around her, then rested my cheek against the top of her head.

We shifted to get more comfortable, and I inched down so that I could kiss her, languidly and deeply, until every last one of my senses was filled with her.

“You’re perfect,” I murmured, touching our noses. Her eyes were closed, and they fluttered open when I spoke.

“You’re one to talk,” she said, her voice sultry and inviting.

My heart skipped a beat, and I moved to kiss her, which lead to another, and another, until she pulled me on top of her.

With a surprised noise, I sat up and shifted my weight backwards, so that I was kneeling above her hips. She brought her hands to my thighs and ran them up the sides of my body, her expression reverent as her eyes followed her hands’ path up my breasts, to my shoulders, and down my arms. She held my hands loosely, and I could only imagine how I looked to her, totally bare, with messy, fully-sexed hair.

A half smiled played on her lips, and I couldn’t help it. When it came to Daichi, I could never help myself. She was magnetic, and I gravitated towards her regardless of our distance. Her breath, hot and sweet on my lips, filled me with a certain kind of life, and I was so looking forward to learning about every last bit of her body. I wanted to discover the things that sent shivers down her spine, or the things that made her breathless and wanting. I started by placing my hands on either side of her face, to cradle her cheeks while I kissed her. I let my hands roam over the perfect slopes of her breasts and down the soft curve of her waist. 

We had so much time to make up for, but I wasn’t going to rush it. She was perfect, and I needed to show her, completely, what she did to me. I couldn’t resist her, and it was foolish of me to ever try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's easy to end fics with sex scenes.


End file.
